


Lady of the Ring

by SettingSummerSun



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Dwarves, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Fear, Fellowship of the Ring, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gondor, Hobbits, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lothlórien, Love, Love Triangles, Return of the King, Rivendell | Imladris, Rohan (Tolkien), Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Survival, Tenth Walker, The Hobbit References, The Lord of the Rings References, The Two Towers, Wilderness, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SettingSummerSun/pseuds/SettingSummerSun
Summary: Precious Anne Wellington was a girl who loved nothing more than binge watching movies in her Netflix playlist while in her pajamas. However, she will discover that her life isn't as simple as it seems. How is Anne tied to a war brewing in Middle-earth? More importantly, why are her eyes so golden? This is a girl falls into middle earth story with a twist. Tenth (10th) walker story based mainly on the movies. Slow Burn. Legolas/OC
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf & Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

**This is my overdue Lord of the Rings fanfiction. I’ve had this story circulating in my head for far too long and thought it is finally time to share it with you all. Please review and leave any constructive criticism. I am trying to become a better writer so all help is greatly appreciated. I have seven chapters already written but I’m still in the process of editing them. I plan to update new chapters every Sunday so be sure to check your alerts. Thanks for checking out my story and be sure to leave a review if you can!**

* * *

Gandalf remained caged, high above the ground in Dol Goldur awaiting rescue or death, he did not know. He mustered the strength to mumble one last spell in hopes Radagast would hear his call of distress and relay the message to Lady Galadriel. Any hope for the future was now out of his hands. With all energy now expended, Gandalf closed his eyes and tried to save the last remnants of strength he had left.

The first vague outlines of consciousness returned to him when a melodic voice seemed to float into his ears and spark a light in the endless darkness within his mind. It took him a moment to recognize the voice as the one belonging to the Lady of Light. Her soft and musical voice caressed his ears as she urged him to endure.

Gandalf struggled to open his eyes and respond to her, but the blanket of darkness weighed him down, refusing to grant him sight. Suddenly, Gandalf could feel the smooth and delicate arms of Lady Galadriel gather him up before lifting him off the cold and rocky ground. He realized with great astonishment that the Lady of Light was carrying him as he could feel the harsh wind whip across his face, stinging his wrinkled skin like the blades of a thousand swords.

As Gandalf became cognizant of his surroundings, an urgency began to fill him. There was something of great importance that he needed to tell the Lady of Light; something that could change the course of the future. What it was, he could not recall, as his mind was still muddled like waking up after a night of too much ale. As Galadriel continued to carry his weak body through Dol Goldur, Gandalf struggled greatly to remember the message. It was on the tip of his tongue, yet the more he thought about it, the harder it was to evoke.

Just then, a deep and sinister voice ripped through the quiet.

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky…,” the voice began, speaking in the cursed tongue of black speech. “Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone.”

Gandalf immediately recognized the voice. It belonged to none other than the dark lord Sauron. But there was something about Sauron’s words that began to stir Gandalf’s recollections. The memory was being brought to the forefront of his mind; only a moment more and he would have it. As if answering his silent plea of remembrance, Galadriel picked up where the dark lord left off.

“Nine for mortal men doomed to die,” she supplied in a grave tone, finishing the verse.

Gandalf mulled over the words. Three rings for the Eleven-kings, seven rings for the Dwarf-lords, and nine rings for mortal men. That was it! The rings. Not just the rings but **_the_** ring—the Ring of Power, which Sauron made to control all the others. But that wasn’t it. There was something more. If only he could grab the memory that seemed just outside of his reach. It was almost maddening to be so close to the thought and yet unable to recall that which mattered most.

Suddenly, Gandalf began to feel the overwhelming sensation of evil, as if it was manifesting into something more tangible—something more real. Although he still couldn’t see, he could feel the vile darkness surrounding them, caging them in like a pack of Gundabad wargs going in for the kill. He felt Lady Galadriel’s steps falter before they both fell down to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

Gandalf could now feel himself splayed over Galadriel’s lap as she whispered words of encouragement to him. If he could just remember the message of importance. It was critical now more than ever that he remember it. The fate of them all depended on it. Gandalf went back to the words spoken earlier about the ring as the dark lord spoke once more. He focused on the rings. Something about the rings continued to nag his memories as if it was related to the message he needed to tell Lady Galadriel. Like a spark to start a fire, Gandalf’s memories lit up, illuminating the message of great importance.

Now that he remembered, Gandalf fought against himself to regain full consciousness but it was harder than he imagined. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, he could not get himself to open his eyes nor to speak. Gandalf took a moment to gather all of his strength for another attempt to gain consciousness when suddenly, he heard the voices of Lord Elrond and Sauroman. They only had time to offer their assistance before Gandalf could hear the cling of metal as a full on assault took place.

Despite the dire situation and the intense fighting that could be heard, Gandalf felt a surge of calm flood his body as Lady Galadriel’s delicate hand brushed his cheek in a maternal fashion.

“Mithrander. Come back,” she whispered into his ear in soothing encouragement.

That was the last bit of help Gandalf needed. Now was the time. He had to wake up now. He forced his eyes opened and blinked until the blurriness of his vision faded and his eyes gazed upon the Lady of Light. Immediately he began to speak, afraid he would not have enough time to tell her.

“My lady. The dark lord has conjured up something evil--something that could change the fates of all,” Gandalf revealed through ragged breaths.

“In his cruelty to punish me, he boasted that he forged another ring—one full of dark magic with the ability to travel through time. He must not be allowed to leave here today! If he can change the past or future to his will, he will control us all! He must be stopped. He wears the Ring of Time now, although he does not have his full power to wield it,” Gandalf finished, drawing in a series of deep ragged breaths, his strength nearly depleted once more.

Galadriel’s face froze at his words. It was worse than she feared. If Sauron gained enough strength, and was able to use the Ring of Time, his evil would be unstoppable. She knew what she hand to do. Looking down at Gandalf, Galadriel brushed her hand across his beaten face once more as Radagast arrived in his sled pulled by rabbits. As she urged Gandalf to get onto the sleigh, she spoke to Radagast.

“He is weak. He cannot remain here. It is draining his life. Go quickly.”

As she expected, Gandalf tried to convince her to leave with him but she couldn’t. She had something to do; something only she was able to do. Reaching within to her deepest power, she ordered Radasgast to leave. It was harsh, but she didn’t have the time to argue. Her focus needed to be on Sauron. Frightened by her sudden surge of power, Radagast fled with Gandalf, leaving Galadriel behind.

She remained on the ground, drawing in all her strength for what she must do next. If it didn’t kill her, it would severely deplete her magic and life force. There was no other option, countless lives depended on her. She briefly felt the hand of Lord Elrond try to comfort her before she felt an explosion of power erupt in front of her, leaving a fierce and fiery flame in its wake. _So it begins_ , she thought grimly.

Sauron appeared in the flames, only a dark shadow within, creating the image of a silhouette. He began to speak at once.

_“It has begun. The East will fall._

_So shall the Kingdom of Angmar rise.”_

Suddenly, nine Nazguls appeared on each side of Sauron in the flame.

_“The time of the Elves is over. The Age of the Orc has come.”_

Galadriel would listen no more. Drawing from within, she conjured up all of her power, allowing it to surge to the surface and show outwardly. She held up the Light of Eärendil as she began to speak.

“You have no power here, Servant of Morgoth! You are nameless. Faceless. Formless. Go back to the void from whence you came!”

As she finished speaking, a great explosion of golden light and shadow shot into the sky as Sauron was sent far into the east. Galadriel could not ponder the significance of the explosion into the sky for too long as she began to fall, exhausted and weak from the use of such great power.

As Elrond caught her, she whispered, “I do not believe we have seen the end of the Ring of Time. We must be ever watchful in the future as it will undoubtedly return.”


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter has political elements in it but do not worry, I didn’t actually write about politics. I think we’ve all had enough of that this year. I included it as a backstory for something I have planned in later chapters. Also, I decided to post this chapter and chapter 3 early so please enjoy!**

* * *

Anne walked into her father’s home office with an annoyed look on her face. She had just started the season finale of Vampire Diaries that had been on her Netflix’s watchlist for over a year and was in what she liked to call her “binge mode”. She hated to be disturbed when she was emotionally invested in a TV show so the fact that she had been summoned during a particularly juicy episode was exasperating.

“This better be important Dad. I left Damon Salvatore on pause for you,” she said sarcastically and slumped into the oversized leather chair like an overgrown teenager.

“Ugh, these chairs are so uncomfortable,” she complained and shifted her body. She continued to wiggle and fidget until she finally sighed and tossed her legs over the side of the chair’s arm and crossed her arms behind her head. Feeling satisfied, she finally turned to look at her father who was staring disapprovingly at her from across his desk.

“Now what can I do for you Padre?” she asked with a broad smile.

Her father sighed and rubbed his forehead like he always did when irritated by his daughter’s antics.

“Can you be serious for one minute Anne?” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You know this is an important year for me.”

“Yeah I know dad,” she agreed with a heavy sigh.

This was exactly why Anne left home and instead, chose to reside in the dorms on campus. Her father was a senator who for some reason Anne would never understand, decided to run for President. Now all their lives had been turned upside down with non-stop chaos ever since he announced his candidacy. For Anne, it felt like a death sentence but she kept her morose feelings to herself. It was important to her father and so Anne tried to be as supportive as she could be.

“I need you to be a team player here,” her father emphasized with a stern look.

“I am a team player,” Anne rebutted, feigning offense at being called otherwise. “I’ll have you know that at the last gala you made me attend, I didn’t even make one vampire joke to Senator Cullen’s son Edward. Do you know how much effort that took? I mean c’mon, that joke pretty much wrote itself.”

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “Just tell me you’ll be in attendance at the party tonight and not holed up in your room upstairs? It’s important that you socialize with our guests.”

“Well hopefully an apocalypse happens and I’m forced to be on the run from zombies. But on the off chance that that doesn’t happen, yeah Dad, I’ll be at the party,” she agreed reluctantly and swept her legs off the chair before sitting properly.

“Good” he said, clasping his hands over his stomach. “And please try to be on your best behavior,” he urged none too delicately.

Anne leaned forward and opened the crystal candy dish on his desk filled with expensive Swiss chocolate. She grabbed a handful and plopped two in her mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked with a mouth full of chocolate.

Her father gave her a pointed look.

“Touché Padre. Touché,” she said putting the remaining chocolates in her hand back on the desk.

Just then, Anne’s stepmother Grace glided into the room. Anne hated to admit it but her stepmother’s name was rather apt for her. Grace was everything most women aspired to be—beautiful, poised, clever, and could command a room by simply walking in it. She came from a wealthy aristocratic family and was the epitome of a ‘respectable woman’, embodying everything her father wished she was but unfortunately was not. Grace was the picture perfect woman and Anne knew without a doubt, America would absolutely love her as the First Lady.

“Hello Anne. What a pleasure to see you up before noon on a Saturday,” she said as she walked past her to stand by her father.

Anne smiled. That’s what she liked about Grace. The woman was beautiful but in spite of her propriety, she could wield her tongue like a cleaver that could tear a person to shreds all while looking innocently demure. Anne secretly loved her for this. They weren’t close but they had a repertoire of sorts. Each acknowledged the importance of the other in her father’s life, but they never really hung out if they could help it. It wasn’t idle but it was copasetic.

“You might be more careful in the future Anne,” Grace said handing her a magazine with a post-it note sticking out the top of it, marking a page. “You don’t want to be seen opening your mouth dear. It’s already large enough closed,” she said smirking.

Anne ignored her comment for the time being and opened the magazine. There was a large, unflattering candid picture of her stuffing her face full of candy in her car. She visibly balked.

“Are you kidding me? ‘ _Senator’s Daughter enjoys too many Red Vines_ ’?” Anne wailed in hysteria. “As if I’d eat Red Vines! I was eating Twizzlers for goodness sake! I should be suing them right now for libel. That’s character assassination if you ask me and I’m pretty sure my case would win in court for the record.”

Her father shook his head in exasperation. “This is exactly what I’m talking about Anne. Our lives will be under intense scrutiny until the election and I need you to be more aware of your behavior.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she apologized sarcastically. “Since when is it a crime to enjoy a tasty treat in private?”

“Except you weren’t private. You were binging on sweets and sugar in your car while watching Netflix on your phone,” her father commented dryly. “And let’s not discuss your horrid attire. Sweats Anne? Really?”

“Umm hello, I was in the _privacy_ of my own vehicle! Plus, I had time to kill before my next class and I needed to catch up on the new _Witcher_ series. And, I don’t even know how my clothes came into this conversation. I’ll have you know sweats are comfortable and completely acceptable attire,” she claimed folding her arms across her chest.

Both her father and Grace gave her a skeptical look.

“I don’t see why I’m under attack? Shouldn’t we be talking about the photographer who took this photo? I mean obviously, he was creepy if he was out at ten in the morning stalking the daughter of a presidential candidate on a college campus. That’s the real crime in all of this,” she argued back. “I’m the victim here!”

Her father ignored her ranting and instead gave her a meaningful look that was his signature look of half disappointment and half irritation. Anne had received this look more times than she could count. She was starting to believe that was her father’s only look at this point.

“What your father is trying to say is that we need you to be less of—well you,” Grace advised gesturing to all of Anne, “and more—refined,” she finished with her trademark polite smile.

Anne grimaced. She knew they weren’t completely wrong. Yes, she had a habit of saying things at the wrong times and behaving in an improper fashion but it’s not like she asked for any of this.

“I’ll try to do better,” she agreed begrudgingly and stood up. “Now if we’re done, I’m going to go back to Mystic Falls where one devilishly handsome Damon Salvatore is waiting for me.” She walked to the door to leave but stopped and turned around. “But just so you both know, plenty of people like my personality,” she declared dramatically.

“Fictitious characters don’t count darling,” Grace quipped back, smile still in place.

Anne laughed. “I always love spending time with you Grace. You’re such a hoot,” she said smiling back at the older woman.

“One last thing Precious,” her father began, purposely using her first name. “We will be calling you by your first name for the rest of the election cycle. It tested better in focus groups.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” she groaned and banged her head on the door. “That’s it, I’m voting for the other guy!” she declared and stormed out of her father’s office and back to the confines of her bedroom. 

***

Anne tried not to roll her eyes as she stood with her parents as they welcomed the guests to the party. There were so many people in attendance that their names all became a blur. It was almost forty-five minutes later when her father finally relieved her of her duty and told her to go and enjoy the party. She was still expected to mingle and dance but Anne always seemed sly enough to get out of the latter.

Tonight’s event was another party in support of a charity. She had been to so many of them lately that she wasn’t even sure which charity they were supporting. It’s not like it mattered though. She was the senator’s daughter and it was expected of her to rub shoulders with the upper echelon of high society and government shakers. She was dressed in an over the top extravagant dress that she would never purchase on her own, being ogled at by men twice her age. Granted, they were covert about the ogling but she felt it nonetheless.

Anne went to pick up a second cheese cube from the waiter’s tray before it was intercepted by a slender, immaculate and manicured hand.

“It might do you well to remember angles are a girl’s best friend. Never go back for seconds. Double chins don’t attract strong jawlines,” she heard a soft feminine voice say from behind her.

It was her stepmother, once again reminding her of her lack in the romance department.

“Thank you Grace. My self-esteem always soars when you’re around,” Anne quipped back sarcastically.

Grace simply smiled in response. “Well Precious, you should thank me. It seems my taste in gowns is rather exquisite based on the amount of looks you have been receiving this evening. You should be thankful you have me to remind you to be on the lookout for potential suitors. Otherwise, I highly doubt you will ever find yourself a respectable spouse.”

It was just like Grace to overtly praise herself while ripping a person to shreds. Anne had to give her credit, the woman was a masterpiece.

“Again. Thank you Grace. But for the record, I’m twenty. Not really looking for a potential suitor, let alone a spouse.”

“It’s never too early to start looking Precious, especially with your father’s upcoming presidential campaign. I heard one of the Kennedy boys will be here. Do make sure you find time to converse with him,” she said as she left. And she was off, gracefully gliding through their manor’s ballroom, commiserating with anyone of importance. She was so elegantly loquacious that it was hard not to be envious of her.

The party was already as exhausting as Anne had predicted it would be and she still had several hours left before it would be over. It was a constant reminder of how much she didn’t fit in. She wasn’t part of this crowd and she knew it. They were all go-getters and workaholics, whereas Anne believed in rule #32 from _Zombieland_ : enjoy the little things. It’s what solidified her lassiez-faire approach to life.

Anne didn’t have any real goals besides getting through her Netflix watchlist and living long enough to read George R.R. Martin’s final book of Fire and Ice; and, she was okay with that. Anne liked who she was and she was starting to grow tired of her father trying to change her. Like any child, she really wanted to appease her father, but she was starting to see that she was losing herself in the process.

After two hours of making her mandatory greetings to various political figures, Anne slowly made her way over to the double doors that led to the hallway. Before she could slip away unnoticed, she heard her name being called. She turned around to find her father giving her _the_ look. The one that was half disappointment and half irritation. She sighed heavily and drudged up her last bits of courage before heading his way.

Ever since she could remember, her father had been a cold man—not harsh so much as emotionally distant. He was brilliant and a respected leader which Anne was proud of him for; but, they lacked a normal father-daughter relationship. She sometimes felt that she was more of a background story for him to use to further his career. She could even imagine the headlines:

_Young, talented, ivy league graduate gets married only to have his wife succumb to madness while pregnant with first and only child._

Or

_Wife dies during horrific schizophrenic episode forcing young up-and-coming political savant to raise daughter alone._

It was harsh to think like this but she often found herself aware of his ease to divulge what she considered was private family business. She guessed with the upcoming campaign everything would come to light anyways. She just always felt anger toward his lack of tack in regards to her mother’s story.

Anne had only met her mother once when she was twelve. She visited her in an upscale psychiatric institution where many of today’s political family members reside when you want to keep scandals hush hush. Her mother was sitting on a recliner by the window overlooking the gardens before she turned around and Anne saw her in person for the first time.

Her mother was a beautiful woman whom Anne closely resembled. She had thick, soft, wavy hair that framed her oval face. The color reminded Anne of coffee or chestnuts mixed with sunlight and caramel. Her mother was slim and tanned a beautiful shade of bronze as if she was a natural Californian like Anne. Her lips were plump with a natural fullness but her eyes were her most striking feature. They were almond shaped and a captivating green so vibrant it reminded Anne of moss. Her nose was angular yet rounded at the tip, softening her face and making her appear almost angelic.

As Anne walked closer to her, she noticed her mother had the slightest splatter of freckles residing on her nose and the apples of her cheeks. In all, she was beautiful and Anne wanted to be just like her…and she was for the most part—except for her eyes. That was the only differing feature between them. Where her mother’s eyes were a moss green, Anne’s were golden with a color so bright and warm that they were mesmerizing in their intensity. In fact, it was Anne’s eyes that made her mother smile for the first time.

“Mine” she cooed softly and put her hand out for Anne to hold. Anne walked closer to her and placed her hand in her mothers’ as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed near her. They held hands for a moment as her mother continued to gaze at her eyes with the brightest smile Anne had ever seen.

“My own…” her mother cooed again softly, gently rubbing her thumbs over the backs of Anne’s hand.

“My….Precious…”she declared as her eyes enlarged with glee. She had used Anne’s first name which no one really called her, but Anne didn’t correct her. After all, it was her mother who had named her Precious.

Anne smiled back politely when suddenly, her mother grabbed her harshly and pulled her onto her lap as if she were a child. She began petting her hair in what should have been a maternal gesture, but felt more possessive than affectionate.

“She’s come back. My Precious is back,” her mother whispered to herself as her hand traced Anne’s face. She looked so completely saturated with happiness that Anne began to feel a little uneasy.

“We must go and take our Precious away,” her mother declared suddenly as she pulled Anne into a fierce hug.

“They will take our Precious! They wants her! They _all_ wants her!” she continued anxiously, squeezing Anne tighter to her chest.

Anne began to try to squirm herself out of her mother’s hold as she continued to grow uncomfortable with her mother’s actions. The way her mother was talking frightened her. For the first time, Anne could see her mother’s mental illness first hand. She was talking to herself as if she were two people.

Anne tried to wiggle out of her hold again but her mother wouldn’t let go.

“No! No! They can’t have her! She’s mine! My own!” her mother screamed as her face transformed into a demented and menacing scowl.

“SHE’S MINE! MY OWN! MY….PRECIOUS!” her mother screamed louder and grabbed Anne harder. Terrified by her mother’s escalating change in mood, Anne began to actively fight to dislodge herself from her mother’s grasp. As Anne struggled to free herself, her mother became even more crazed and frightening.

“Help! Somebody help me!” Anne shouted, calling to anyone who could hear her.

She heard footsteps coming down the hall before three ward security guards ran into the room. Two went to her mother to try to pull her off Anne, while the third grabbed Anne by the waist and tried to haul her off in the opposite direction. Anne’s mother went into a full-blown panic in her need to keep Anne near her. Before Anne could blink, her mother snarled and bit down into the forearm of one of the security guards, ripping off a sizable chunk of his flesh. She quickly spat the chunk of meat onto the floor before she tried to attack the second guard. He was faster to respond and quickly moved his arm before her mother could bite down.

He must have called for reinforcements but Anne couldn’t hear anything over the loud piercing scream that she would later find out was from her. Even as more guards and nurses ran into the room to help sedate her mother, her mother never took her eyes off Anne. For years, the face of her mother with large crazed eyes and a bloody manic smile haunted her.

Anne was taken out of her reverie when her father introduced her to yet another politician. He was a congressman but Anne tuned out the rest of the introduction as she started to hear a low but demanding whisper in the background. Something about the voice made her skin crawl in an unsettling way. She quickly turned around and scanned the room but couldn’t find the source of the voice.

“Anne is a Political Science major who will someday also hold office in this very city,” her father announced to the congressman.

It was something Anne didn’t have the heart to tell her father would never happen. That was a conversation for another day. Anne smiled at the politician before her attention was once again diverted to the whispering she could clearly hear in the background.

“Does anyone else hear that?” she asked aloud, feeling confused that no one else seemed to be bothered by the eerie voice.

“Hear what darling?” her father asked, visibly annoyed by her interruption.

“That whispering,” Anne replied, ignoring her father’s irritation.

They both shook their heads and her father gave her a meaningful look before he engaged in the conversation once more.

Anne knew she wasn’t crazy. She could clearly hear the voice whispering but she couldn’t make out the words. Although she couldn’t understand what it was saying, there was an ominous aura that the voice held that made her stomach tie up in knots. Something about the voice terrified her in a way she couldn’t put in to words.

Anne tried to smile and be a part of the conversation but she couldn’t focus on anything but the that sinister voice that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. As soon as she could, Anne excused herself and all but ran out of the ballroom and down the hall to the stairs that led to her bedroom.

Once inside the safety of her room, she quickly locked her bedroom door and released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Anne didn’t think of herself as a coward, but she was definitely going to sleep with the light on that night.

She sighed heavily and pulled herself off the door and in the direction of the bathroom. Feeling like an imposter, she took down her hair from the elaborate up-do and let it fall down past her shoulders in long waves. She then took off her dress and heels before walking into the bathroom to take a shower and wash the smell of politics off her.

When she was done showering, Anne pulled open her dresser drawer and frowned. She reached in and picked up a pair of athletic leggings with the tag still on them. Confused, she opened the drawer next to it and let out a long defeated breath. Grace had already taken out all of her sweatpants and oversized shirts and replaced them with athletic gym clothes.

 _When had she even had time?_ Anne thought impressed. _More specifically, when had she bought them?_

Although now that Anne thought about it, Grace was unnaturally efficient at task management. It was okay though; her new wardrobe wasn’t too horrible. It could have been a lot worse. A mental picture of sundresses and ball gowns came to mind. Anne quickly shook the image out of her head and grabbed a an athletic tank top that had a built in bra. She got dressed and grabbed her phone to check the weather. It was projected to be 55 degrees that evening, which by Los Angeles standards was practically winter weather. She went into her closet to grab a hoodie but instead saw several athletic jackets that now replaced her comfy hoodies. _Well, Grace was nothing if not thorough,_ Anne thought, grabbing one of the black jackets and zipping it up all the way.

She walked over to her full-length mirror and smiled at her reflection. She suddenly felt like the Black Widow from the _Avengers_. She did a few karate moves to solidify her new persona and laughed at her own lack of skill. Well at least she looked the part.

Anne would never admit it to Grace, but the outfit _was_ comfortable and did look better than sweats and a hoodie. Lacing up her black Nike shoes, she grabbed her phone and put it in the case that also dubbed as her wallet. Having made up her mind, she decided it was time to high tail it out of there.

Anne ordered an Uber to drive her back to campus and made her way downstairs and out the back door. She planned to sneak out through the back yard and catch her Uber down the street. It was an elaborate plan but she really did not want to see the look of disappointment when her father saw her leaving. It wasn’t a dignified exit but hey, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Anne made it successfully to the back yard before she heard the same ominous whispering from earlier. This time it was louder and seemed more sinister. Anne wondered briefly if she was going crazy. Maybe this was how it started for her mother. The whispering grew louder and Anne looked around her surroundings in a panic. Not a soul was near her. The whispering grew louder and more forceful, causing Anne to start to run.

As she ran, she felt an ominous force hook into her from behind like a tether. Before she had a chance to scream, the world zoomed out from in front of her as if she was being suctioned out of it. Suddenly, rapid images changed before her, reminding her of old motion pictures. It took her a while to figure out she was actually seeing the world change before her. Abruptly, the world before her disappeared and she found herself alone in the universe with the stars above her and galaxies glowing in the distance. She felt as if she had strayed out of thought and time. Then just as quickly as she had been forced there, she was pulled back into the world with rapidly changing images that she couldn’t comprehend before darkness finally took her.

* * *

**Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

The first sense that returned to Anne was her hearing. She could make out several voices talking amongst themselves in worried tones. They differed from the whispering voice from earlier in that they didn’t create an oppressive sense of dread within her. These voices sounded lighter, yet strained with worry.

“Stay back!” she heard a deep voice warn. “She may be a servant of Sauron, here to deceive us.”

Anne’s body continued to try and rouse itself out of what felt like a drug induced sleep. Her eyelids felt unusually heavy, like a weighted blanket on top of a mattress. She attempted to open her eyes several times to no avail.

“She is waking, keep back young hobbits!” the same deep voice instructed.

She struggled again, putting all of her strength into the action, until at last, her eyes opened. A blurry mass of gray shades hovered above her in an unidentifiable shape. She blinked several times, causing the blur to fade away and her eyes to see clearly for the first time. An old man with a long white beard was looming over her in what looked suspiciously like a wizard’s hat. She noticed he was pointing a long wooden stick at her.

“Professor Dumbledore?” she asked groggily.

Anne’s mind felt sluggish and her body felt tired. It reminded her of how she felt after sleeping for the first time after her finals last semester. She had studied for two days straight and crashed so hard afterward that when she awoke she couldn’t remember what day it was. It was the kind of sleep of pure exhaustion. But Anne couldn’t remember studying recently so why was she so tired?

“State your purpose for being here?” the old man commanded in a harsh tone. “If you are a servant of Mordor, I would have you tell me!”

Anne frowned. What the hell was this old man going on about? More importantly, she wished he would quiet down a bit. She was still struggling to think clearly and his booming voice wasn’t helping her any.

“Okay first off, I don’t know who Mordor is,” she explained pushing the old man’s wooden stick away from her face as she sat up slowly. “Secondly, you’re kind of freaking me out so I’m going to need you to take a few steps back, away from me.”

The old man looked at her strangely but remained where he was. Anne ignored him and shook her head, trying to clear her mind and think straight. She looked down and noticed her hands where resting on a flowery type of shrubbery…or could it be grass? It reminded her of that time the mint she had planted in her backyard as a kid had taken over the garden like wild fire, coating the ground completely.

Confused, Anne lifted her head and looked around. There was nothing but trees in every direction. She thought hard about where she was but couldn’t place her current location in any of her memories. She had never been here before she realized with growing anxiety.

Anne tried to remember how she arrived in the woods but couldn’t bring up that memory either. The last thing she remembered was being at a party. It took her a moment longer to remember that it was her father’s charity event. But which charity was it again?

Anne shook her head. That was insignificant. Anne thought back to the party and remembered trying to leave early. Suddenly, she remembered the whispering voice that haunted her. She remembered running. Did she get away?

She thought harder, trying to recall the night’s events. She struggled, shuffling through memories before she finally remembered the weird feeling of being sucked out of place and seeing the world change before her.

Strange.

Anne gasped when she finally came to the unfortunate conclusion that she must had been drugged at the party. It was probably one of those Kennedy boys. They were quite the Nantucket troublemakers she remembered—if the rumors were true.

Panic started to rise within her as she realized she was in the woods with some crazy hobo, who by all accounts, was most likely her kidnapper.

_I’ve been…taken!_

Thinking quickly, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Listen,” Anne said, putting her hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve taken me, but my father has a very particular set of skills. Skills that he has acquired over a very long career. Skills that make him a nightmare for people like you. If you let me go now, this will be the end of it…and I can take an Uber home.”

Alright so she had used the line from _Taken_. It was the only thing she could think of. It didn’t work in the movie but Anne hope it would work for her. She didn’t know any karate moves, despite her roundhouse kicks she imitated from Kill Bill when in the privacy of her own room. She thought she sounded pretty believable in her threat. She just hoped her kidnapper hadn’t watched any of the Taken movies or knew her father was Senator Willington. If he did, she was in trouble.

The old man looked at her queerly, as if confused. He still had his stick uncomfortably close to her but he seemed to be in deep thought.

Anne sat there immobile, too scared to move as the old man continued to think. His suspicious glare was softening just a touch and Anne felt a little bit of the nausea from being kidnap start to fade. Just then, she heard a neigh like a horse was behind her. She turned around and saw two children off in the distance standing by a brown horse.

_Oh no, he’s kidnapped those children too!_

Anne’s mind raced like she was on a motor speedway as morbid thoughts started compiling one after the other. Panic and dread were rising steadily within her, causing her to freak out. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to be calm and collected; she needed to be cool.

 _Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together._ She repeated to herself. She needed to be in control of the situation.

Anne tried to think fast about how to handle the situation. She thought about the show _Criminal Minds_. Yes, she needed to profile her kidnapper first. She looked him over quickly and tried to deduce as much about him as she could.

Channeling her inner Sherlock, she concluded the old man had delusions of grandeur as was evident by his clothes. That part was pretty obvious since he was dressed up as Professor Dumbledore. Furthermore, she figured that since he had kidnapped the two children before her, it was more likely that he was a serial kidnapper.

But Anne wasn’t sure what he wanted. The suspects on the show always wanted something. Most of the time it was fame and fortune, but every once in a while there was that person who did it for fun. Anne prayed it wasn’t the latter, those were always the wildcards who didn’t fit the profile constraints. She had to do something though. There were children involved!

“Look mister,” she said looking the old man in the eyes. “I will stay with you, but you have to let the children go. I promise I won’t fight you [a bold face lie] and we can go wherever you want [another lie].”

The man smiled then.

“No…I do not think you are a servant of Sauron,” he declared, pulling his wooden stick away from her. “Although there is a strangeness about you,” he mumbled quietly to himself but it was just loud enough that Anne heard him.

The old man lifted his stick and placed it on the ground next to him. Anne smiled when she realized the old man was probably using it as a cane. That thought made her feel relatively safer. After all, how hard would it be to outrun a senior citizen?

“And they are not children,” the old man continued and gestured for the two figures in the distance to join him. “They are hobbits.”

Anne watched as the “hobbits” came closer until they stood next to the old man. It wasn’t until they were before her that she could see their faces were not childlike at all, but instead were much older. They looked like grown men in tiny little bodies.

“I think the proper term is dwarves,” Anne corrected the old man for good measure. “Or little people,” she added as an afterthought. She wasn’t actually sure which term was the proper one nowadays.

“We are not dwarves,” one of the tiny men insisted with a chuckle. “We are hobbits, although some call us little folk.”

Anne looked at him with a raised eyebrow. She had never heard that term before but honestly things were changing so much lately. Correct terminology was hard to keep up with so she just went with it.

She looked over the “hobbits”. She had to admit they didn’t really look like dwarves. They were completely proportional just shrunken down to a cute size. They both wore old-fashioned clothing from a bygone era. It made Anne briefly wonder if they were a part of one of those niche-groups like steampunk or whatever it was called. She didn’t understand it but hey, to each their own.

She looked down and paused in her appraisal. Neither hobbit wore shoes. Instead they sported bare feet that were massively huge and way hairier than a normal foot should be. It was like Chewbacca style hairy!

It all began to click together then. She was dreaming! It would explain the weird hobbit men and their large and frankly gross looking feet. It would also explain her bootleg version of Dumbledore. Anne chuckled at her own wild imagination. Sometimes she could be a real nut job. But she had to give herself credit where credit was due. Her dream was exceptionally vivid.

“Oh I feel so much better,” she admitted, smiling. “For a minute there I thought all of this was real and that I had been kidnapped,” she finished chuckling. “I’m so glad this is just a dream. I really didn’t want to have to run for my life. Cardio is overrated.”

The old man looked at her strangely again. “I assure you this is no dream.”

“Yeah…okay,” Anne replied sarcastically.

Although her dream was flawed—she obviously got Dumbledore wrong—she had never experienced a dream so detailed. Even the grass like shrubbery under her hands felt ridiculously accurate. She decided then and there that if she was indeed, lucid dreaming, she was just going to go with it. It’s not like she had something better to do at the moment. And besides, maybe she could fix things along the way and end up in a truly magnificent recreation of Harry Potter. She always did want to visit Hogwarts.

“May I offer you some assistance my lady?” the old man asked and held out his hand for her to grab.

“Yeah thanks,” she answered and put her hand in his. He pulled her up with ease as if she weighed nothing more than a child. He was spry for such an old guy, Anne thought with pride, congratulating herself on yet another impressive feat of her subconscious. When she finally stood at her full height of 5 feet and 5 inches, she noticed that the old man was still massively taller than her. He was at least a foot taller than her.

“I am Gandalf the Grey,” the old man introduced himself. “And these are my companions Frodo--,” he paused, “…and Samwise Gamgee.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Anne waved politely. “I’m Precious of House Targaryen.”

If she was lucid dreaming, she was at least going to make it interesting.

“What did you just say?” Gandalf asked with an intense look in his eyes.

 _Dang_. She had been caught. In her own dream no less.

Anne rolled her eyes. “Fine, my name is Precious Wellington,” she confessed reluctantly. “But ‘ _of House Targaryen_ ’ just sounds so much cooler.”

Gandalf leaned closer to her and studied her face. “Interesting,” he whispered to himself.

“Tell me, have your eyes always been that golden?” he asked in a grave tone as if it was of great importance.

Anne always hated when people commented on her eyes. She could never explain why, but it always made her feel uncomfortable. People’s compliments or questions about her eyes always held a possessiveness that made Anne’s skin crawl. Surprisingly though, she wasn’t getting that vibe from Gandalf.

“Yeah they have,” she answered leaning back from him. “And by the way, dream or no dream, I still enjoy my personal space.”

“My lady, I assure you this is no dream,” Gandalf repeated with assurance. “Do you remember how you came to be here?” he inquired with questioning eyes.

“Yeah, I was at my father’s party and decided to leave early,” she began, recalling all the details. “I was going through the backyard to stay hidden so I wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving early when I heard a voice. It was whispering but I couldn’t make out the words. I think it was a foreign language. But the voice was creepy like something out of a horror movie. It just felt wrong,” she explained with a shiver and stopped, not wanting to recount anymore. She didn’t want to sound crazy.

“Please continue,” Gandalf urged encouragingly, fully immersed in the details of her story.

“Well…that’s when things get weird,” she began again. “It felt like I had been sucked out of my time and then out of my world. I know it sounds crazy. But then I felt like I was thrusted forward but this time the world looked different. And then I woke up and you were standing over me with your stick.”

“My staff,” he corrected absent-mindedly as he mulled over her story.

“Something tells me you are more important than you appear,” he finally mumbled cryptically after several moments of silence.

“These are dark times and the servants of evil may already be looking for you,” Gandalf warned as he looked around the woods. “It is imperative that you leave the Shire. You cannot stay idle, you must move for the agents of darkness will be drawn to you,” he finished somberly.

“Right, okay then,” Anne agreed enthusiastically, clasping her hands together. She was ready for the dream to get more exciting. The sooner they made it to Hogwarts the better. A certain Nimbus 2000 had her name on it!

Gandalf whistled, calling the horse over. Anne watched as a brown horse with a white patch on its nose trotted over. 

“I apologize that we don’t have time for more pleasantries,” Gandalf said sadly as he took the bags off the saddle and handed them to the hobbits. “But this might change everything. I must have answers,” he mused aloud.

“You must leave the shire without me,” he instructed, turning his attention to Frodo. “Leave the name of Baggins behind you. It is not safe. Make for the village of Bree. I will meet you at the Inn of the Prancing Pony.”

“Will the ring be safe there Gandalf?” Frodo asked worriedly.

“I don’t know Frodo. I don’t have any answers,” he admitted and knelt down so he was eye level with the hobbit. “Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.”

“Can we trust her Gandalf?” Frodo whispered but it was still loud enough that Anne heard him.

Gandalf looked at her for a moment and smiled. “She is not a servant of evil, that much I can tell. What purpose she has to play in all this, I do not know. I have questions. Questions that need answering. You must take her with you and _you must keep her safe_ ,” he emphasized looking hard into Frodo’s eyes.

Frodo nodded his head in agreement. “I will look after her.”

“Good,” Gandalf commented, pleased with his compliance. He smiled warmly at Frodo and clasped his hand on his shoulder affectionately. Then he stood up and turned his attention to Anne.

“Like Frodo, you will have to leave the name of Precious behind you. It is not safe. Is there another name to call you?” he asked politely.

“Almost everyone calls me Anne,” Anne answered. “I’m not even sure why I told you my first name to begin with,” she continued, rambling. It was most likely because her parents had been using it at the party she concluded.

“Most interesting indeed,” Gandalf commented to himself. “You will be known as Anne henceforth,” he declared with a nod. “Yes, Anne is a good name.”

He looked down at her attire and frowned. “That simply won’t do,” he said shaking his head.

Anne looked down and thought she looked fine. She was still wearing what she decided she would officially name “The Black Widow Suit”. It was really just a pair of black leggings with a black tank top and matching jacket. She felt like she looked like the spitting image of a spy. It was all very clandestine like to her and she approved of the outfit.

“Here, take my cloak,” Gandalf said unclasping his cloak and handing it to her.

“Yeah…thanks but no thanks,” she said refusing his offer. His cloak looked more like a homeless guy’s blanket and she had the feeling it might smell like one too.

“Your clothes will bring too much unwanted attention. You must stay hidden for as long as you can. Please trust me on this Anne,” he urged and handed her his cloak again.

There was something about the worry in his eyes that made Anne grab the cloak. He seemed so sincere in his need for her to remain anonymous that she took pity on him. She figured if she going to play along with her dream’s storyline, she might as well go all in.

Anne sighed but wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and clasped it at the neck, grateful it didn’t smell as bad as it looked. It wasn’t freshly laundered, but it didn’t smell of old armpits either.

“It might be too long,” Anne commented as she looked down at the gray material pooled around her feet.

Gandalf drew his sword quickly, which Anne found equally mesmerizing as well as terrifying.

“Stay still,” he instructed her as he knelt down to cut into the fabric. He then took the material between his hands and pulled it in opposite directions, causing a large tear to form. He continued tearing the cloak apart until a large portion fell off the bottom.

“There,” he said and stood up. “That should do. It only needs to last until Bree and from there I may acquire more suitable clothing for you.”

“No worries,” Anne assured him with a wave of her hand. She was fairly certain she wouldn’t even make it to Bree as her dreams never lasted very long. Plus, she was still set on changing things up and making her way to Hogwarts.

Gandalf looked at her for a moment then smiled brightly. “You are very brave Anne,” he complimented and patted her shoulder. He then put his foot in a stirrup and saddled his horse.

Gandalf looked down at Anne for a long moment and frowned in worry. “I know you believe this to be a dream Lady Anne. But I would ask that you act as if it were real, for your very life may depend on it,” he warned her, looking deeply into her golden eyes.

His overwhelming sincerity flowed over Anne and something told her to heed his warning. She suddenly got the brief notion that maybe this wasn’t a dream but she quickly waved it away as crazy-talk.

“Ok Gandalf. You win,” she agreed. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

 _Well at least not anything worse than I would do in my real life_ , she added mentally as an afterthought.

Gandalf smiled down at her, pleased with her decision.

“I must leave you now,” he announced, grabbing the reins of his horse.

“Stay together all of you,” he advised looking at each of them individually for emphasis. “Travel by day and stay off the roads. Be careful all of you. The enemy has many spies in his service…,” he warned and looked around, “…birds, beasts--,” he began and trailed off with furrowed brows. He blinked and looked back at the three of them.

“I must see the head of my order. He is both wise and powerful. He will know what to do,” he said confidently. “Now make haste and remember to stay off the roads,” he warned ominously and spurred his horse. It reared up reminding Anne of the movie _Black Beauty_ before it took off, racing through the woods.

The hobbits and Anne stood there, watching Gandalf and his horse disappear until he was little more than a speck in the distance.

“You know what? He’s a pretty cool old man,” Anne declared as she watched Gandalf disappear into the horizon. He was alright in her book.

“He’s not a man,” Samwise corrected from beside her. “He’s a wizard!...A great and powerful wizard.”

* * *

**Be sure to leave a comment!**


	4. Chapter 4

A flock of birds suddenly rustled in the trees above them causing Anne and the hobbits to jump in fright.

“We must get moving. Gandalf warned us not to be idle,” Frodo reminded them worriedly and began walking.

Anne noted that Frodo was headed in a different direction than the one Gandalf took. She briefly wondered where ‘the highest of Gandalf’s order’ resided but the thought left her mind just as quickly as it had entered.

“So how far to Bree?” Anne asked as she looked around. She couldn’t see any signs of civilization nearby.

“Do not worry Lady Anne, it is only a three day journey from here,” Frodo answered encouragingly and smiled.

Anne’s jaw dropped open in surprise. “Wait a minute. Hold up! Did you say THREE days?” she asked for clarification.

Frodo nodded at her and continued walking, oblivious to her shock.

“And we’re walking the WHOLE way?” Anne asked in a high pitch shriek.

“We have no horses Lady Anne,” Samwise answered as if it was explanation enough.

“No, no, no,” Anne repeated shaking her head in disbelief. 

It was official. She was in a nightmare!

“You can’t be serious?” she asked outraged. “I don’t even exercise in the real world! Dream or no dream, unless Harry Styles is behind me personally motivating me the whole way, you can forget it,” she finished and stopped walking, crossing her arms in defiance.

Frodo and Sam stopped and turned around to look at her.

“It is not that far Lady Anne,” Frodo promised. “You’ll see. We’ll be there in no time.”

“You really don’t need to call me Lady Anne. It’s just Anne. Although the ‘lady’ part does make me feel all Downton Abbey like.” She smiled briefly before giving them a small curtsey. “Secondly, there has to be a plane, a car or at the very least a train we could take.”

The hobbits looked at her as if she had sprouted flowers out of her head.

“I apologize Anne, but I do not understand you,” Frodo said and looked questioningly to Samwise. The larger hobbit looked just as puzzled by her words as Frodo.

Anne sighed, realizing that she knew nothing about the dream world she had concocted in her subconscious. First things first, she needed to understand the world better.

“Well what is the fastest mode of transport you have?” Anne asked, figuring that would help clarify things for her.

“Horses of course,” Frodo replied and chuckled like she had asked something completely ridiculous.

_Really? Horses?_

That was it, she was done. What was the point of dreaming if she couldn’t fly on a dragon or play quidditch on a broomstick?

“Well this has been great and all but I think I’m going to wake up now. Hopefully, my next dream will be on a deserted island with Henry Cavill as my only company. See you two on the flip side,” she waved and pinched herself.

Nothing happened.

She pinched herself again for good measure.

Nothing happened.

Well that was weird. So it was going to be the hard way then. Anne raised her hand and slapped herself hard across the cheek.

“Ouch!” she screeched. “That actually hurt,” she moaned, rubbing her now stinging cheek. She stopped when she noticed the hobbits looking at her with wide, shocked eyes. They were staring at her like she was a crazy woman.

“Sorry,” Anne mumbled and continued rubbing her cheek. “This usually works. I’m not sure why this isn’t working,” Anne mused aloud.

“It is no dream Miss,” Samwise assured her in a soft, compassionate voice. His voice also held a tinge of concern that didn’t go unnoticed by Anne.

She stared back at him, unsure what she thought. The hobbit did look truthful. What if she _was_ awake? Her dream had been strangely detailed and more vivid than any dream she had ever had before. Nothing was blurred or hard to grasp like she often experienced in her dreams. Could she actually be awake?

“We should really get going,” Frodo urged hesitantly, looking around their surroundings warily.

Frodo’s words pulled Anne from her thoughts. She still wasn’t certain what she thought about her situation. The only thing that Anne knew for sure was that she didn’t want to be found by any of the “servants of evil” Gandalf had talked about. Whether she was awake or dreaming, she wasn’t a fan of meeting scary entities.

“Fine,” Anne gave in. “Let’s go,” she said and began walking in the direction they were traveling.

They continued in silence, walking through the woods as Anne tried to embrace being in nature. Normally, she wasn’t an outdoorsy type, but being in the woods was kind of nice. The air smelled fresh, there were plenty of butterflies and small birds flying around and Anne swore she even saw a wild rabbit. She was so used to living in the noisy hustle and bustle of LA that it was nice to experience a break from all the ruckus. The only sounds she heard were that of nature…and the rattling of Sam’s pots and pans which, if she was being honest, was kind of weird.

_Seriously though, who carries their cookware with them?_

It was all very relaxing and picturesque…for about twenty minutes.

“Whelp, I’m bored,” Anne announced loudly and sighed.

She found that nature wasn’t very entertaining. In fact, it was practically mind numbing. She was used to living a fast-paced life. She needed Netflix, Instagram, TikTok, flash mobs, ANYTHING. She was a part of the instant gratification generation who held virtually no patience.

“Maybe you can tell her one of Mr. Bilbo’s stories?” Sam suggested to Frodo.

Frodo seemed unsure. “Well I guess so. That is, if she even wants to hear it,” he said looking at Anne for approval.

“Please,” she begged whole-heartedly. Anything that could capture her attention would be a gift at this point. She just hoped Frodo’s storytelling skills would be up to par with the grandpa in _The Princess Bride_.

Frodo smiled, pleased with Anne’s eagerness and began to retell the story of his Uncle Bilbo’s adventure to reclaim the dwarf kingdom of Erebor. Anne was immediately captivated and listened to every word as they walked through the woods.

Through his storytelling, Anne was able to learn more about where she was (Middle-earth) and the different creatures and places in it. She planned to write everything down as soon as she woke up so she wouldn’t forget it. She figured she might have potential to work in Hollywood if her subconscious could create such a world.

They walked for a few hours as Frodo talked the whole way. They had just reached a rocky creek when Sam interrupted them to remind Frodo that it was time for afternoon tea.

“We can stop here,” Sam suggested. “It has plenty of fresh water to drink and cool off with.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Anne rejoiced and sighed loudly. “I really want to hear the rest of the story but I’m so tired I can’t even listen anymore,” she complained, dramatically.

“Do not worry Anne, I will continue after we eat,” Frodo promised as they walked to a large boulder next to the water. “There is much more that happens after they were saved by the eagles.”

“Yeah okay,” Anne acknowledged distractedly, too focused on climbing onto the large boulder so she could rest.

When she made it to the top, she immediately plopped down in a loud huff and spread her arms and legs out so she resembled a snow angel.

“I’m too out of shape for this,” Anne huffed out in her best Danny Glover impression.

It wasn’t like she was fat. Anne was definitely in the normal weight range, but she was squishy around the edges from lack of exercise. Grace had tried to lure her into the Peloton bike-spinning craze several times but Anne was pretty sure that was a cult. Sure, she could stand to tone up but she could never justify torturing herself with exercise to accomplish it. She would rather spend her days lounging around like Jabba the Hut than have anything to do with something that made her sweat.

In fact, Anne was surprised that she had walked for so long without dying. However, now that she was resting, she could feel the soreness of her legs even more. She wondered how far they had actually walked then remembered they had another two and a half days’ worth of walking left.

“Ugh,” she groaned aloud as she watched Sam pull a long object out of one of his knapsacks and unwrap it. It was a loaf of bread which had dried fruit baked into the top of it.

Anne immediately sat up and stared at him like a dog watching their owner, begging for a treat. She could feel her mouth start to water from excitement and for a brief horror-stricken moment, she wasn’t sure if she would start drooling like a dog too.

Unaware of her creepy stare, Sam took out a knife and cut a few slices which he promptly handed to Frodo, before turning to Anne.

“Would you like some Anne?” he asked politely, holding out a slice to her.

_Of course I would. I’m starving!_

Anne nodded her head excitedly and had to remind herself to accept the slice like a normal human being and not chomp down and devour the bread in his hands like some ravenous animal.

“Hmm, carbs. My favorite,” Anne grinned and took a bite.

She closed her eyes and moaned in delight. Thanks to the dried fruit on top, the bread tasted more like a decadent cake than bread. Since she was still mostly convinced she dreaming, Anne figured she didn’t have to have any of the guilt associated with eating such a sweet treat. She took another bite and moaned again. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to wake up now.

Anne opened her eyes to see the hobbits staring at her with slack jaws.

“What?” she asked, brushing her face self-consciously. Did she have crumbs all over her mouth again?

“Do you always make that noise when you eat?” Frodo asked delicately.

“Why does everyone ask me that?” she complained. “Yes, I do” she answered defensively and rolled her eyes in annoyance.

She was so sick of people judging her. Anytime she ate around people for the first time, they always brought it up. Yes, she made noises when she ate. Did that make her a freak show? No. Most of the time she made littles noises like she imagined a happy chipmunk would make. But, if she was being honest, there were other times when the noise sounded undeniably sexual. It’s not like she could help it! It was an automated response like breathing; she did it without thinking. Luckily, the sexual moans only seemed to happen when she was particularly famished, like she currently was.

“I apologize if I offended you,” Frodo began, “it was not my intention.”

Anne sighed. “It’s cool. Water under the bridge,” she said, waving away his apology. She wasn’t one to hold on to a grudge.

The hobbits looked puzzled by her words but Anne didn’t bother explaining; she was too busy eating.

They ate the rest of their fill in silence with Anne eating three more slices. It probably wasn’t considered ladylike but Anne didn’t care. It was ridiculously delicious so she was going to enjoy herself. Plus, she thought it was only right to over indulge considering her dream was making her exercise. She considered it payback.

After an hour of enjoying afternoon tea and resting, they packed up their belongings and continued on their journey. As promised, Frodo continued Bilbo’s story as they made their way out of the woods and into the fertile plains of farmland. By the time they made it to the first large cornfield, Anne was fully invested in hearing the story to the end. She found the part about the elves of Mirkwood especially interesting and hoped she had a chance to go barrel riding before she woke up. She thought it sounded like some serious fun…minus the whole orc army trying to kill them part.

They walked for another two hours which was pretty much Anne’s limit. She was just about to complain once again and demand that they take a rest when Sam spoke.

“The sun is starting to set Mr. Frodo. Maybe we should look for somewhere to camp for the night,” he suggested and pointed ahead. “I think those woods ahead of us would make for a good camp site.”

“I second that!” Anne agreed from beside him, dragging her feet along the ground. She had gone from walking like a normal person to a feet shuffling, haphazard gait that resembled the zombies off _The Walking Dead_. “I’m so tired,” she complained with a heavy sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’m only moments from death!”

She might have been exaggerating a little but this was ridiculous. She wasn’t an athlete. And honestly, she would be damned if she was going to exercise in a dream if she couldn’t at least have the benefit of Harry Styles’ beautiful face encouraging her the whole way. Although, the fact that they had been walking for so long brought up that nagging suspicion that perhaps she wasn’t dreaming.

“Fine,” Frodo agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly. He looked like he wanted to go a little further, anxious to make it to the inn as fast as possible. “Gandalf did say to travel only by day,” he reasoned as they entered the woods again.

Anne was happy to notice that there was no foliage on the ground this time around. She thanked Thor of Asgard for their good fortune. It would make walking a lot easier since the ground consisted of dirt with a few shrubs here and there.

They walked a little farther into the thick of the woods before Frodo stopped and pointed to a small clearing at the base of a tree.

“I think that’s a good place to camp,” he said walking over to the area.

They dropped their bags at the base of the tree and the hobbits began walking around the woods collecting fallen tree branches for firewood while Anne sat down on the ground and watched. Apparently, chivalry was not dead amongst hobbits.

“I can start cooking dinner,” Sam suggested when he and Frodo made their way back to Anne. “It’s just about time.”

“Yes, yes and YES!!!!!!!” Anne cheered in her best Oprah voice, clapping her hands repetitively for emphasis.

“Well then it’s settled,” Sam decided and smiled at Anne.

The hobbits made a small fire and Sam put one of his cast iron pans to good use frying up some meat and potatoes. They ate happily and talked about various topics like Gandalf’s “amazing fireworks”. Then the hobbits told her about life in the shire which seemed simple yet enjoyable. They asked Anne about her world and she told them all about technology which seemed to go over their heads. They were polite though and smiled as she explained things like social media and special effects in movies.

When she was done talking, Anne begged Frodo to finish Bilbo’s story which he was happy to oblige. It was a mistake though because she found herself crying hysterically by the end of it.

“That was a horrible story! Fili and Kili can’t be dead!” she wailed. “They’re heirs to the throne! This is like Game of Thrones all over again!” she yelled angrily and batted her tears away. “This is why I have trust issues!”

Anne knew she probably looked crazy but she couldn’t help it that she had a heart! She was only human.

“It is what happened,” Frodo whispered and patted her shoulder awkwardly in an attempt to console her.

“Well you should have given me a warning at least,” she complained through watery tears.

After that, the mood in camp became weird so they all just sat there quietly finishing their dinner and avoiding eye contact. It was awkward but no one seemed to know how to dispel it. Finally, Samwise took out a long pipe and began filling it up with tobacco. Frodo seemed to like the idea of a smoke because he pulled his out too and before long they were both puffing away on their old-timey pipes.

Tabacco smoke filled the air around them as Anne rested and watched the sky change colors through the gaps between the leaves. The woods grew darker as the night went on until the only light came from the fire the hobbits had made earlier. It was a small fire since Frodo had warned Sam against making a larger one, but Anne was still grateful for any light it provided. She was not used to sleeping outdoors—especially in the wilderness. Of course, this triggered her imagination to work overtime.

“What was that noise?” she asked, moving closer to Sam.

He chuckled at her apparent fear and patted her arm in encouragement. “It’s just an owl. No need to fear Anne.”

“And you’re sure there are no orcs, goblins, or trolls in these woods?” she asked for the millionth time.

“We’re sure,” Frodo answered with a smirk.

Anne didn’t find the situation as amusing as they did. It was all fun and games until someone lost a limb.

She stayed close to Sam’s side feeling mildly comforted by the fact that if something did come for them, she could probably outrun him. It wasn’t a saintly thought, but it was an honest one.

“Would you guys like to hear a story?” Anne asked suddenly. She figured it would keep her mind entertained but more importantly, it would keep her thoughts off the possibility of becoming Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in _The Reverent_.

“Sure,” Sam said as he picked up a leftover cube of meat from dinner and ate it.

“Well it starts off with Geralt of Rivia,” she began smiling, thinking of how deliciously handsome Henry Cavill was in the _Witcher_ TV show.

They remained huddled around the fire as Anne told them the whole storyline of the first season—or at least the PG-13 version. Somehow, the hobbits seemed too wholesome for her to reveal the less unsavory aspects of the show.

The hobbits were great listeners and hung on to every word she spoke as they became deeply engrossed in the story. And really, who could blame them? Anne had watched the whole series in two days. Yeah, she had a problem.

“…And finally, after all of that, he says ‘ _People linked by destiny will always find each other’_ ,” she finished in her best Geralt impression.

The hobbits clapped enthusiastically and commended Anne on her storytelling ability. Then they discussed the various aspects of the show and speculated on what they thought would happen to Yennefer in the future.

“Well it’s time for supper,” Sam interrupted and got up to fetch some items out of his bag.

“We just ate,” Anne commented confused.

“That was dinner,” Sam replied pulling out a few sausages and thick cuts of bacon. “This is supper,” he emphasized, holding up his food.

Anne laughed out loud. She was all about eating but this was too much—even for her.

“I’m going to have to pass,” she said patting her stomach. “I’m still full from dinner.”

“Great! There will be more for us,” Sam declared, smiling jovially. He walked back to the fire and put his pan on the flames. He let it heat up and threw in the sausages and bacon. Then he pulled his pipe back out, filled it up and began smoking again.

“We hobbits are a very hearty bunch,” Sam commented absent-mindedly as he moved his bacon around the pan with a meat fork while inhaling his tobacco. “We eat seven meals a day.”

“What?” Anne gasped aloud. “You’re kidding!”

Sam chuckled. “No. We love to eat!”

“Wow,” Anne replied, shaking her head in astonishment. “And I thought I liked to eat.”

Frodo and Sam laughed good-naturedly and began to recite the different names for meals and when the meals usually occurred. Then Sam began to list all the typical foods eaten at each meal with great relish.

It was obvious that of the two of them, Sam was the true food connoisseur. Anne could clearly see his eyes gleam with pride and fondness as he talked about each item. Whereas some men fantasized about women, Anne had the distinct notion that Sam fantasized about food.

The hobbits ate as she kept to herself, thinking about the strange world in which she found herself.

When the hobbits were done eating supper, they pulled out their bedrolls which were basically just blankets. Each offered Anne theirs to have for the night but she refused, knowing that she would soon wake up. She smiled sadly as she wrapped herself in Gandalf’s cloak and laid down next to them.

“You know, I’m really going to miss you two. I wish we had more time with each other,” she confessed as she closed her eyes.

“Do not worry Anne,” she heard Sam say cheerfully. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Anne smiled with her eyes still closed. It was a nice thought.

* * *

**Sorry, I know this chapter wasn’t that stimulating. Thankfully, the next chapter is more interesting as we meet Merry and Pip and the Ringwraiths. Please stick with me and don’t give up. I promise the next chapter is much better! As always, if you have any constructive criticism I am all ears!**


	5. Chapter 5

“Anne, it’s time to wake up. We must be on our way soon,” a voice informed her, shaking her shoulder gently.

“It’s too early,” Anne groaned and turned over.

“What should I do Mr. Frodo?” the voice asked.

The name made Anne open her eyes. Sam was kneeling next to her with a bright smile plastered across his face.

“Good morning Anne! I’ve already cooked breakfast,” he said cheerfully.

Anne screamed.

“No, no, no,” she repeated to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “This can’t be happening.”

“Why am I still dreaming? Why can’t I wake up? What is happening to me?” she asked in rapid succession as the panic soared within her to overwhelming proportions. Her mind was racing uncontrollably as she tried to understand her situation.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered in horror as she came to a startling revelation.

_I’m in a dream that I can’t wake up from!_

Her mind immediately wandered to the movie _Inception_ before Anne burst into tears. She remembered that the main character had been stuck in the dream world for decades, and there were still debates about if he really made it out of the dream. Too freaked out to hold in her emotions anymore, she covered her face as she cried harder.

“Don’t look at me!” she sobbed and turned away from the hobbits. She had always been an ugly crier. 

“Try not to worry Anne,” Frodo advised and sat next to her. He patted her shoulder in a comforting manner before continuing. “Gandalf is seeking the answers for you right now. He will find a way to send you home. We just have to meet him in Bree and it is only a two-day journey from here,” he reminded her encouragingly.

Anne furrowed her brows as she mulled over his words. Her mind briefly flickered to _The Wizard of Oz_ and she thought maybe Frodo had a point. Of course, none of it made sense. But, if she _was_ stuck in a dream, a wizard would be the person to get her out of it somehow.

Anne’s tears slowly subsided as hope began to return to her. She let out a whimper and hiccupped before she used a clean part of Gandalf’s cloak to wipe her nose.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed as she batted away the last of her tears. “I just need to calm down until Bree. I can do that,” she asserted aloud in an attempt to convince herself. “None of this makes sense…I’m trapped inside my own dream…but at least it’s not a nightmare. I’m just going to be calm and not freak out until we get to Bree,” she reiterated to herself, nodding several times.

_Yes. I can do that. I’ll be fine. Everything will be okay._

_I just need to make it to Bree and everything will be fine._

“Would you like some breakfast?” Sam asked delicately, careful of her fragile state of mind.

Anne nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

Sam went off to make her plate while Anne took several deep breaths to calm herself. He returned carrying a plate that had two slices of bacon, a thick slice of ham and a large piece of plain bread on it.

“This will make you feel better,” he assured her confidently as he handed her the plate. “Bacon always makes folks happy,” he reasoned.

He had her there.

“I can’t argue with that logic,” Anne replied with a small smile of thanks.

If she had to stay stuck in Middle-earth, she was at least grateful to be in the company of two kind hobbits. Things could have been worse; she could’ve woken up in Erebor with a dragon next to her. She thought back to the story Frodo told her and shivered. Yeah, things could definitely be worse.

Anne ate her breakfast in silence while the hobbits packed up their belongings. Just as Anne finished eating, her bladder made itself known in an urgent kind of way. It was then that she realized she hadn’t had to use the bathroom in Middle-earth yet.

“Where is the closest bathroom?” Anne asked as she handed Sam her now empty plate.

The hobbits exchanged an uncomfortable look with one another before Frodo spoke up.

“The thing is…” Frodo began and paused. He scratched the back of his neck and looked down at his feet uncomfortably. “There isn’t one for miles,” he admitted, looking up at her from under his eyelashes. “You will have to find a spot in the woods to relieve yourself,” he finished as a red tinge of embarrassment appeared on his cheeks.

Anne’s mouth fell open.

“I can’t pee in the woods!” she hissed in horror.

It was one thing to sleep on the ground in the wilderness, but it was a completely new level of mortification to relieve herself out in the open. Anne continued to debate if she could hold it in in long enough to make it to a farm and then beg for dear life to use a bathroom. Although the more she thought about it, she wasn’t sure they even had toilets in Middle-earth. It didn’t matter though because her bladder wouldn’t give her a chance to make it very far.

“Finnnneeeee,” Anne groaned in defeat. “Stay here. I’m going to go find a place to…,” she trailed off, not wanting to say the word “pee” in front of the hobbits. “…In the woods…like some _barbarian_ ,” she added dramatically as she stomped off.

Once she was finished tending to her bodily functions, Anne returned to camp and joined the hobbits once more. They quickly loaded up their belongings then set out on their journey, leaving the comfort of their makeshift camp behind them.

They walked for several hours as Anne kept mostly to herself. She wasn’t in a very talkative mood as her mind was bombarded with non-stop questions that held no answers. They exited the woods after second breakfast and continued on into more farmland until elevenses where they stopped behind a nearby barn to eat and take a short rest. It wasn’t until after luncheon that Anne finally pulled herself out of her morose thoughts just as they came up on a new farm.

“I really do not wish enter Farmer Maggot’s farm,” Frodo revealed anxiously as they continued onward. “But it is the fastest route,” he added with downturned lips.

“Why?” Anne asked curiously. They had already walked through so many farms, she didn’t see what was so special about this one.

Frodo grimaced. “When I was younger, I used to sneak on his farm and steel mushrooms,” he revealed, much to his chagrin. “One time he caught me and beat me something awful. Then he let his massive dogs chase me all the way to Bucklebury Ferry,” he added with downcast eyes. “Ever since then, I have been somewhat terrified of him.”

“I would be too if he beat me and had me chased by hounds,” Anne agreed, horrified by the farmer’s cruelty. “Wait a minute, does he still have his dogs?” she asked, suddenly worried herself.

“Most likely,” Frodo mumbled nervously. “As long as we don’t steal anything, we should be fine,” he speculated aloud, mostly for his own benefit. He seemed to be trying to bolster himself up with enough courage to continue on.

Anne swallowed loudly. She didn’t want to encounter any massive hounds. Although if Farmer Maggot was a hobbit like them, she figured his massive dogs might turn out to be corgis. She laughed at the thought and almost wished to see the hounds in order to confirm her suspicions.

When they made it to the beginning of the farm’s property line, they stopped and looked around for any signs of activity. Having confirmed that the coast was clear, they decided to go through with their plan.

“Let’s make haste and try to cross his land as quickly as possible,” Frodo urged and took his first step onto Farmer Maggot’s land.

They passed several rows of varying crops with great speed before they finally made it to the cover of cornfields. She heard Frodo release a deep breath, relieved to be hidden from view. The stalks reached up so high that even Anne was completely covered from view with several feet to spare.

They continued walking in the corn stalks for some time with no sign of exiting anytime soon. Anne concluded that Farmer Maggot must have possessed a ridiculously large farm considering how long they had been walking on his property.

“Let’s play hide and seek,” Anne suggested suddenly, growing bored with the simplicity of just walking.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam replied from in front of her.

“Too late!” she said and dashed over a couple of rows until she disappeared.

She could hear Sam calling out for her in a harsh whisper but she ignored him. Instead, she ran up ahead and then busted out of the cornstalks in front of them. They both jumped back in fright, causing Anne to burst out laughing. Then, she jumped out of sight again. She did this several times until one time she appeared and only found Frodo.

“Where’s Sam?” she asked confused.

Frodo smiled. “He went in search of you. He planned to jump out and scare you this time around,” he revealed conspiratorially.

“That will never happen,” Anne declared smugly. “I would hear him coming a mile away with all those pots and pans jiggling,” she insisted with a chuckle.

“He thought of that and put them inside his bag so they would be quiet,” Frodo whispered in confidence.

Suddenly, they heard Sam calling out for them in panic.

“That’s Sam. We better go find him,” Frodo said, moving in the direction of the sound.

Soon, they found themselves in a large pathway that separated the different sections of cornfields. They spotted Sam a little way off in the distance and he looked beyond relieved to have found them.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said walking up to them.

Frodo laughed. “Sam we’re still in the shire. What could possibly happen?”

Just then, two figures ran out of the cornstalks and into Frodo and Sam, tackling them to the ground. Anne screamed and backed up, moving so quickly that she tripped over her own feet and fell hard on her backside.

One of the figures looked up and smiled wide when he saw her. Anne was relieved to see it was just another hobbit.

Frodo groaned from underneath one of the mysterious hobbits which caused the unknown hobbit to look down at him.

“Frodo?” he asked as he looked down at him. He smiled and turned to the other hobbit who was currently on top of Sam. “Merry, it’s Frodo Baggins.”

“Hello Frodo!” the hobbit ‘Merry’ called out.

Sam ungracefully pushed Merry off of him and stood up. He walked over to the hobbit on top of Frodo and pushed him off of his friend as well.

“Get off him,” he ordered irritably. “Come on Frodo,” he said holding his hand out to assist him.

Frodo grabbed Sam’s hand and allowed him to pull him up to his feet.

“May I help you my lady?” A hobbit said from beside her.

Anne looked to see Merry holding out his hand to her with a large, friendly smile.

“Hey why do you get to help her?” his friend shouted while dusting off his clothes. “I saw her first!”

“Well I got to her first,” Merry said with an air of superiority.

Anne smiled at their antics. They were adorable.

“Thanks but I doubt either of you can pull me up,” she informed them and got up on her own.

Merry looked displeased at her slight against him but didn’t comment on the matter. Instead, he put on his brightest smile and introduced himself.

“I’m Merry Brandybuck,” he said bowing slightly.

The other hobbit ran over and pushed him out of the way. “I’m Peregrin Took but everyone calls me Pip,” he said bowing politely as well.

Merry pushed him out of the way. “I was here first Pip!” he claimed angrily.

“And like I said, I saw her first Merry!” Pip quipped back and folded his arms across his chest in defiance.

“Both of you leave her alone!” Sam ordered, pulling them back by their collars. “She doesn’t need a Brandybuck and a Took fawning all over her.”

“We were just introducing ourselves Sam,” Pip argued as Sam continued to pull them backwards. “There’s no harm in that.”

“Yeah well you can do it from a distance,” Sam instructed and let go of their collars, satisfied that they were a respectable distance from her.

“I’m Anne Wellington but you can just call me Anne. I don’t need the ‘lady’ part attached to it,” she explained in advance, knowing that they would call her ‘Lady Anne’ if given the choice.

Merry was just about to say something when Frodo interrupted him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Frodo asked, pointing to the array of vegetables strewn across the ground.

Sam gasped. “You’ve been into the Farmer Maggot’s crop!”

He had just finished his accusation when they heard the sound of barking in the distance.

“You better follow us,” Merry advised and quickly picked up his ill-gotten gains, throwing a few items to Pip who caught it with ease.

“Hey, you get back here!” an angry voice yelled from inside the corn stalks. Anne could see a scythe tool threatening them from above the top of the cornstalks. It reminded her of the image of the grim reaper.

“Quick! We better hurry,” Pip said and turned to run inside the next section of corn stalks. Merry was right behind him with Anne right on his tail. She didn’t need to be told twice!

She turned and saw Frodo behind her with a panicked stricken face, followed by Sam who appeared equally angry at Merry and Pip as he was scared of Farmer Maggot behind him.

“You’d better watch out when I catch up with you!” the voice threatened as the sound of barking grew closer.

“I don’t know why he’s so upset,” Merry stated from in front of her. “It’s only a couple of carrots.”

“And some cabbages,” Pip added from in front of Merry. “…and those three bags of potatoes that we left you last week,” he said, calling out to Frodo. “…and then the mushrooms from the week before.”

“Yes, Pippin,” Merry shouted in annoyance, exasperated by Pip’s honesty. “My point is…he’s clearly overreacting!”

The barking grew louder as the dogs drew closer to them. Anne could tell by the deep sounds of the barks that those weren’t corgis chasing them. She imagined the dogs were closer to “the beast” from _The Sandlot_ than they were to the Queen’s preferred four-legged companions. Yes, Anne was pretty sure those deep sounding barks were coming from something similar to an English Mastiff.

“Run faster!” she demanded and pushed Merry forward. She was not going to get bitten by some monster hound.

The hobbits ran faster and soon they were out of the cornstalks when Pip stopped abruptly. Unable to stop in time, Merry and Anne crashed into him from behind. Anne just noticed the cliff ahead of them when Frodo bumped into her. She had a brief moment of pure panic before Sam came hurtling out of the cornstalks and ran into all of them, causing everyone to fall over the cliff’s edge.

The five of them fell forward, down a steep slope that was covered in plants and shrubs and a few trees that Anne thought she saw as she tumbled uncontrollably down the hill. The world spun in circles around her as she grunted and groaned as her body hit various objects on its descent down the slope. Anne felt one more terrifying drop like she was on a rollercoaster, before she fell onto Pip and Merry. Before she had a chance to think, Frodo fell on top of her followed by Sam who thankfully, landed mostly on her legs.

A melody of groaning ensued as everyone felt the painful effects of falling down a hillside. Anne lifted her head to see Merry’s face squished into her chest underneath her. She could hear him mumbling something but couldn’t make out the words. She lifted herself up a little by pushing up from resting on her forearms to resting on her hands. It reminded her of the plank position in yoga.

“I think I’ve broken something,” Merry groaned from under her and pulled something from under him. It was a broken carrot which seemed to give him a great amount of relief. He finally looked up for the first time and saw that it was Anne who was pinned on top of him. She watched as a large sly grin spread across his face.

Anne smirked at his apparent joy at their unfortunate predicament, but it was short lived as she was currently being crushed by the two hobbits on top of her.

“Can you guys get off me?” she asked with a strained voice. “It’s kind of hard to breathe right now.”

Sam got up, muttering something about trusting “a Brandybuck and a Took” under his breath before he assisted Frodo in getting off of her as well. Anne took a much needed breath of air before she too got up. She offered her hand to Merry who took it with great enthusiasm and helped him to his feet.

“Mushrooms!” Pip shouted with joy, still lying on the ground. He was pointing to a grouping of fungi growing on the ground nearby.

Before Pip had a chance to get up, Sam jumped over him and ran to the grouping of wild mushrooms with great enthusiasm. Pip tried to get up again but Merry purposefully pushed him to the ground in order to get to the free food first. Finally, Pip jumped up and rushed over to join them for his fair share of the mushrooms.

Anne looked to Frodo who just smiled and shrugged. She guessed it was a very hobbit thing to do.

“That’s mine!” she heard Merry complain and snatch a mushroom out of Pip’s hand.

“Oh that’s nice” Pip reprimanded sarcastically.

Anne was walking over to the hobbits to see what all the fuss was about when she felt a chilling sense of dread crawl up her body and settle in the pit of her stomach. It felt like an invisible link had been made between her and something dark and sinister. Anne swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as goosebumps rose along her arms in warning. She could feel something evil headed straight for her.

Anne walked forward in a daze, her feet moving of their own accord until she passed by the hobbits and finally stopped. She felt like she was being called, like someone was in dire need of finding her. She felt both drawn to it and terrified of it at the same time. She peered down the abandoned road and squinted hard, trying to confirm the nagging sensation that something was out there.

Anne couldn’t see anything but the empty road surrounded by woods on both sides. Nothing seemed out of place and yet, Anne couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in grave danger.

“Can you feel that?” Anne whispered worriedly over her shoulder to Frodo. She needed him to verify it wasn’t all in her head like the voice she heard at the party. She needed to know someone else could sense the approaching evil like she could.

Frodo walked over and stood next to her as he looked down the road. She watched as he examined the road in front of them for any signs of unusual activity. She almost let out a breath of relief but saw his body go rigid out of the corner of her eye. She turned and his wide, alarmed eyes locked on to hers.

She knew then. He could feel it too.

Before they had a chance to say anything, a low screeching noise sounded off in the distance. A misty fog appeared slowly, twirling the leaves toward them in a creepy fashion. She heard the ghoulish sound again and shivered violently. Something about the eerie sound made Anne’s insides shrivel up to the point she thought she might vomit.

“I think we should get off the road,” Frodo suggested to the hobbits over his shoulder. His voice had wavered as he spoke.

The other hobbits ignored him and kept bickering over mushrooms but Anne paid them no mind. She couldn’t take her eyes off the road. The link between her and the ominous energy was growing stronger by the second.

The gnawing sense of impending evil grew so pressing that Anne’s hand shot out like lightening and latched onto Frodo’s wrist in a crippling hold. Her wild eyes found his and she wanted to scream at him that the sinister energy was almost upon them but she found herself unable to talk past the lump in her throat. Not knowing what to do, she squeezed his wrist harder, hoping that he would understand her.

Frodo’s large panicked eyes stared back at her and she realized that he already knew.

“Get off the road!” Frodo shouted in a harsh whisper to the hobbits behind them, “Quick!”

The hobbits looked up in confusion and almost ignored him again, but something about the terror-stricken look of Frodo’s face gave them pause.

Merry nodded once and grabbed the last of the mushrooms, stuffing it into Sam’s bag before running over to Anne and Frodo who were already jumping off the road and down into the woods below.

Anne tripped over a root and fell to the ground with a loud thud. As she was getting up, she noticed the tree next to her. It had an open space near its roots, large enough for them to hide under.

“Over here,” she whispered to the hobbits.

It was a tight space but she hoped they would all fit. If the knot in her stomach was correct, they wouldn’t have enough time to outrun the macabre energy coming their way. Whatever was producing the screeching noise would soon be upon them. They needed to hide quickly.

Frodo silently directed the other hobbits to the hiding space and they all gathered in next to Anne with Frodo being the last to join them. Merry, Sam and Pip were still silently arguing over mushrooms when the first sounds of horse hooves echoed in the distance.

Anne’s heartbeat sped up and pounded so hard in her chest that she could barely focus on the sound of galloping hooves growing closer and closer. It wasn’t until the horse was almost upon them that she noticed the sound was off. The galloping didn’t sound like a normal horse; it sounded unequivocally wrong and demented like what she thought the four horsemen of the apocalypse would sound like.

The galloping grew unnaturally loud until it abruptly stopped right over them. Everyone froze and Anne held her breath, too scared to make even the tiniest of noises. She remained immobile as she heard the rider dismount from the horse. She heard metal clinking against each other like chainmail but even more rigid. Anne couldn’t be sure but she thought the rider might’ve worn medieval battle armor based on the sounds it emitted.

Anne’s body seized up as she heard the figure walk over to where they were hiding. Each footstep felt like a footstep closer to death until finally, the noise stopped. The figure didn’t move but stayed perched above them, causing Anne’s stomach to coil tighter and tighter until she thought her insides might rupture.

Suddenly, it was as if a sonic energy wave pushed forward through the still air. Immediately, Anne felt a low vibration in her mind calling out to her to succumb to its power. Anne couldn’t explain the strange sensation but she felt a heavy longing to reveal herself and join with the figure calling out to her.

Anne cringed as she heard the rider above them sniffing the air as if he could sense her presence. The low vibration she felt in her mind continued to hum alluringly as all manner of creepy-crawlies seeped out of the earth, drawn to the sinister energy trying to seduce her. She tried not to yelp as her body jerked in fear. 

The ominous energy wave pulsated over and over with a presence so overwhelmingly oppressive, that Anne felt like her very soul was being sucked out and replaced by a darkness so menacing she could hardly fathom it.

She struggled as the humming vibration in her mind grew steadily until she felt almost drunk with the staggering sense of evil within her. It reminded Anne of a siren’s call luring a sailor to his death. The temptation of the call was so strong that Anne could barely keep her eyes open as the darkness beckoned to her. She felt increasingly incapable of not heeding its call. Frightened, she grabbed the hand sitting next to her and squeezed as she tried to resist the urge to reveal herself.

Her eyelids became unbearably heavy and she turned to see Merry looking at her with concerned eyes. She barely managed to mouth the word “help” before the lure became too strong and her eyes closed against her will.

She briefly felt Frodo’s presence in her mind like he was somehow connected to the link like her. She wanted to yell and scream for him to help her but she found herself unable to speak. Soon, Frodo’s presence was sent to the background as the ominous presence consumed her mind. She could hear the same bone-chilling voice from the party whispering to her. It was dominating and unyielding in its demand for her. She felt herself moving, like her body was willingly trying to reach the rider calling out to her. A part of her realized she should be panicking but instead, she felt a strange sense of calmness take over her body like a trance. She wanted to join the rider. No, she _needed_ to.

She heard a noise in the distance and then suddenly, the link luring her in was abruptly severed. She felt like a fish that had been cut off the line unexpectedly while being reeled in.

Anne opened her eyes just as Merry grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her up. He continued to pull her behind him as he started running. Anne followed in a daze until the fog of darkness retreated from her mind and instead, was replaced by soaring panic. With all her senses back, she ran after Merry, no longer needing him to pull her along.

Anne could see the other hobbits running beside her and met Frodo’s eyes for a brief second. His eyes looked just as terrified as she felt.

She knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that he _had_ been in her mind. Somehow, they were connected.

Anne could not think on the matter for long because she had more pressing issues like not getting abducted and possibly murdered by some crazy demented energy.

They ran for a long time, keeping as low as they could in an attempt to remain hidden. It was much harder for Anne as she had to run hunched over, but she didn’t complain as she was too terrified of being caught.

Finally, they stopped near a large gathering of tall bushes and knelt on the ground as they caught their breath.

“What _was_ that?” Merry demanded as he caught his breath. “What’s chasing us?”

Before anyone could answer, they heard a loud, ominous screech nearby. She looked in the direction that the sound came from and saw a black figure atop a large black horse. It looked suspiciously like…

“Is that a freaking dementor?” Anne whisper-yelled in disbelief and pure horror.

Anne didn’t think dementors could be any scarier than they were in _Harry Potter_. However, seeing one on a horse that looked like it was bred in the depths of hell told her she was wrong. Apparently, they were much more terrifying in Middle-earth.

The horse reared up as the screeching noise pierced through the quietness of the woods like a gunshot going off. The sound was frightening enough that it caused all them to start running again.

They ran for what seemed like hours, in a crisscross fashion, as the black rider kept blocking their path. It didn’t seem to matter which way they went, the rider was always too close for comfort.

They continued to run and take brief moments of rest before they were forced to run again. Soon, the sun faded and the sky turned dark. Anne couldn’t be sure but the rider seemed almost more threatening in the dark, like he was more skilled hunting at night.

Heavy fog stuck low to the ground making it harder for them to see. They relied on the screeching noise or sound of horse hooves galloping to alert them to the rider’s presence. They ran from tree to tree, trying to keep hidden behind their massive trunks in an attempt to outsmart their pursuer.

They had been on the move again for at least twenty minutes of quick paced running when Anne stopped near a large tree trunk. She leaned against the tree and took in large gulps of air while she held the stitch on her side. Her lungs felt like they were ablaze with fire and her legs felt like jelly, too tired to go on. Frodo ran up to the tree and stood next to her as he kept a look out for the rider nearby.

“See anything?” Merry whispered, coming up to rest alongside them. Anne could hear the hobbit huffing as he took in hard, deep breaths. It made her momentarily grateful that she wasn’t the only one struggling to keep going.

“Nothing,” Frodo answered, peering into the darkness.

Sam and Pip quickly caught up and joined them, each taking in large gulps of air.

“That black rider was looking for something…,” Merry speculated aloud. “…Or someone,” he added as an afterthought and looked at Anne.

She quickly turned her head away from him in guilt. Something deep inside her told her he wasn’t wrong. She had a growing suspicion that the rider was specifically looking for her. But then, she thought of Frodo and the link they shared. She wasn’t the only one the black rider was looking for. She just hoped the hobbits wouldn’t give her up to save their own hides. Could she really blame them if they did?

“Get down!” Pip shouted suddenly.

Instantly, they all dropped down to the ground and remained low, watching their surroundings.

Up ahead on the road, they could see the silhouette of the black rider on his horse, illuminated by the pale moon’s light. She felt like she was in a scary movie and Anne _hated_ scary movies. She held her breath as the rider’s head whipped in their direction and felt another shiver of unease filter through her body. She desperately wanted to close her eyes out of fear but was too scared to do so.

The rider looked around a while longer before it sped off in the opposite direction away from them. Anne let out a deep breath and almost cried with relief. She looked at Frodo who had a grave look on his face. She knew that look. In fact, she was sure she had the same look on her face. It was the look of pure dread at the thought of being captured by the darkness that hunted them.

They _had_ to find a way out of the woods and fast.

“I have to leave the shire,” Frodo spoke, echoing Anne’s thoughts. “We must get to Bree,” he whispered to Merry, giving him a pleading look.

“Right,” Merry nodded. “Bucklebury Ferry. Follow me,” he ordered and took off in a new direction.

Anne and the remaining three hobbits quickly followed behind him, all of them eager to escape the rider. As soon as they darted from their hiding spot, a black rider shot out of nowhere, blocking their progress.

“There’s two of them!” Sam shouted as they tried to dodge the horse.

Anne’s insides twisted brutally to the point of crippling fear, and she found herself unable to move.

The hobbits all ran in different directions, causing the rider to move around in a circle, unsure of which one to follow. He finally turned his attention to Anne who had been incapacitated by her fear and remained immobile. As she looked at the black rider in horror, she noticed that the rider had no face. It was hollow—a vast emptiness reminding her of a black hole in space.

It was the stuff nightmares were made of.

Anne screamed and found herself moving as adrenaline shot through her veins. She tried to run past the rider but he cut her off. She realized she needed to outmaneuver the rider. Remembering a basketball game she once saw, she ran hard in one direction until the rider was almost upon her; then she stopped, pivoted in the opposite direction and ran like the flames of hell were upon her.

“This way,” Merry shouted from in front of her. “Follow me!”

Anne kept running, forcing her tired legs to keep moving as she tried to catch up with the hobbits. Merry, Pip and Sam were well ahead of her but Frodo wasn’t too far off. She kept her eyes on his back, too scared to look away in case she lost him in the darkness of night.

The hobbits all hopped over a fence in front of her before heading out into an open clearing. Anne could see the clearing right in front of her and pushed herself to run faster. She hopped over the fence behind Frodo and fell hard, face first into the ground beneath her.

Frodo was at her side in an instance. “Come on Anne!” he shouted and tried to pull her up.

Something was holding her back and she was unable to escape her position. She looked behind her and saw that her cloak was caught in the fence.

“My cloak!” she screamed in panic.

She started pulling at her cloak in terror as Frodo joined to help her. Anne briefly looked up to see the black rider approaching them quickly.

She was just about to tell Frodo to leave her when they got her cloak free.

“Run!” Frodo shouted and they both took off into the clearing.

Anne heard the horse jump over the fence with ease and she cringed as she heard its hooves pounding the ground right behind her. She focused ahead and saw that the other three hobbits were already on the dock in front of her. They were untying the raft that was secured to the dock. Panic flared within her as she noticed the raft start to float away.

“Run Frodo!” Pip screamed from the raft.

“Go! Hurry!” Frodo yelled back as his little feet ran quickly.

Anne pushed herself to run even harder when she realized the raft was drifting further into the open water.

“Run Mr. Frodo! Run Anne!” Sam shouted from the raft and held out his hands.

The gap between the land and the floating raft continued to grow larger by the second, all while Anne could feel the horse’s breath practically breathing down her neck. She realized with horror that she might not make it out of this alive.

“Run!” Pip yelled again and again, urging them to run faster.

 _Run like Tom Cruise. Run like Tom Cruise,_ Anne thought over and over as she pushed herself to sprint as fast as her legs could move.

Anne caught up with Frodo and they both ran at maximum speed until they reached the wooden pier in front of them.

“Jump!” Sam shouted as he and Pip held their arms open to catch them.

Anne looked at Frodo out of the corner of her eye as they both jumped up into the air. There was a moment of weightlessness before they crash-landed into the hobbits on the raft.

“You made it!” Merry shouted with relief as he continued to row the raft away from the pier with an oversized oar.

Anne rolled off Pip and sat up, staring back at the shore. The black rider had stopped at the very edge of the pier and stared at them a moment before turning back.

“How far to the nearest crossing?” Frodo asked in panic.

“The Brandywine Bridge…,” Merry answered as he rowed, “…twenty miles.”

They all watched in horror as the black rider who had almost caught them, joined with two other riders in black and headed in the same direction their raft was traveling.

“Look Merry! There are three of them!” Pip shouted from next to her.

It reminded Anne of the age old saying that bad things always come in threes.

* * *

**Please comment/review. I love to get feedback from readers and it also helps keep me motivated to continue writing. Thanks in advance!**


	6. Chapter 6

It was just plain unlucky that it started raining while they sailed down the river. Anne pulled her cloak tighter around her as the sky unloaded an unusual amount of rain on them. The raindrops were fat and thick and Anne swore she could practically see each one with her naked eye. Thankfully, Gandalf’s cloak was waterproof, so she used it as a shield to protect her from the onslaught of rain.

The bad weather wasn’t the only thing on their minds. The three black riders were still out there, intent on finding them. As they traveled down the river, they could spot the riders from time to time, making the journey even more nerve wracking. However, after several miles of sailing downstream, they couldn’t spot them anymore. Anne wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or more terrified. It was one thing to see your enemy, and another to know that they were out there, lurking just beyond your eyesight.

When they reached their destination, they got off the raft hesitantly. There was a certain type of security they felt in being on the water, knowing the riders couldn’t get to them. On land, they knew they would be fair game. The only thing encouraging them to continue onwards was the fact that Gandalf was waiting for them at the inn of the Prancing Pony and could protect them.

“Everyone follow me,” Merry whispered to the group. “And stay together,” he added and gave Anne a pointed look.

She didn’t have the chance to defend herself because he took off, causing the rest of them to run after him.

An all too familiar gut wrenching fear returned to Anne as she ran through the dark woods once again, darting from tree to tree as they made their way to Bree. Merry set a quick and demanding pace which Anne found hard to keep up with because of all the mud on the ground. The hobbits didn’t seem to be having the same trouble she was experiencing; their big feet seemed to keep them steady throughout the journey. Anne on the other hand was slipping constantly, even falling a few times. She was quick to get up again and continue on, the need for safety outweighing her frustration.

They ran for several miles with no rest until they finally made it to the front gates of Bree. Merry stopped the group before they exited the tree line and turned to Frodo.

“We have to cross the road and wait for the door to be answered,” he began, pointing to the massive wooden gates in front of them. “We will be out in the open…” he continued and trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish. They all knew the situation; they would be vulnerable to an attack if the riders were close.

Frodo hesitated and looked to Anne for a long moment.

She thought hard about it then nodded at Frodo. He nodded back in agreement, ending their silent conversation. They both felt it. The looming darkness wasn’t close. It had lingered and dissipated as they had drifted further down the river.

“We will cross the road,” Frodo decided and moved forward, leading the way out of the woods and across the road.

Anne and the hobbits quickly followed behind him until they reached the security door attached to the oversized wooden gates.

Frodo knocked on the door seven times in rapid succession. The peephole opened to reveal an old man with a hooked nose.

“What do you want?” he asked in an annoyed tone, looking at Anne.

She pointed downwards to the hobbit in front of her which caused the old man to close the first peephole and open a lower one that put him at hobbit level.

“What do you want?” he asked snidely.

“We’re heading for the Prancing Pony,” Frodo answered in a skittish tone.

The old man closed the peephole and opened the door. He held a candle lamp up in the air so he could see them better.

“A woman and a hobbit?” he asked, shocked by the pairing. “Four hobbits,” he corrected, seeing the other members of their party for the first time.

“Strange company—a woman and four hobbits,” he mused aloud. “What business brings you to Bree?”

“We wish to stay at the inn,” Frodo declared quickly. “Our business is our own,” he added in a stern manner, ending all conversations on the topic.

“All right young sir. I meant no offense,” he assured, putting his hand up in a placating gesture. “It’s my job to ask questions after nightfall,” he explained as he stepped aside to let them enter. “There’s talk of strange folk abroad.”

Frodo looked to Anne briefly but said nothing. The old man must have been talking about the black riders.

“Can’t be too careful,” he added as Anne passed by him. She kept her head down and followed behind Frodo, not wanting the old man to see her guilty face.

Once everyone had entered, the old man closed the door and locked it behind him. Anne could practically feel a weight being lifted off her. Knowing they were behind a guarded gate brought her a great sense of security.

They made their way onward, down the main stretch of road which unfortunately was a muddy mess of puddles and horse crap. The smell alone was enough to make Anne want to vomit. She tried not to think about it as her shoes slid and stuck to the moist ground beneath her.

As they continued, Anne found that Bree was very similar to a medieval town. There were fenced off portions of pasture used for various animals on both sides of the road. She saw horses, pigs, sheep, goats and chickens as they made their way further into town where the buildings were located.

The houses reminded Anne of the Tudor styled homes she saw when she visited the United Kingdom as a child. A little part of her found a thrill of excitement at seeing houses that reminded her of _Harry Potter_.

As they continued toward the inn, Anne noticed she got many stares from the local inhabitants. Based on the gatekeeper’s shock of her choice of companions and the stares from the locals, Anne surmised that hobbits and the races of Men didn’t really mix that often. And, as she thought back to the elves and dwarves from Frodo’s story, she guessed that everyone pretty much stuck to their own kind.

The rain continued its torrential downpour as they walked and Anne hoped that the inn would be warm and cozy. She was freezing and her hair was soaking wet. She had tried to secure her hair under the hood of the cloak but it was made for Gandalf who was more than a foot taller than her. The difference in height caused the hood to hang over her eyes so she couldn’t see or it kept falling off of her head when she tried to place it further back so she _could_ see. In short, it was fairly useless for her.

Anne tripped over her feet and almost fell in a mad dash to get out of the way when a wagon passed in front of them, almost running them over. The group quickly moved out of the way as the large wagon rolled by but the back wheel of the wagon hit a puddle and splashed Sam and Pip with muddy water.

“Excuse you!” Anne shouted at the rude driver who shot her a dirty look. “Watch where you’re going, Jerk,” she yelled and shook her fist at him.

The hobbits looked shocked at her choice of words as if she had just cursed like a sailor.

“Calm down,” she told the hobbits and rolled her eyes. “That’s practically table talk where I come from.”

They continued on and soon Anne noticed that the residents of Bree were quite callous toward the hobbits. Several times the hobbits had to rush out of the way of town residents and wait for them to pass because they refused to move over (even just a tiny bit) so they could all fit on the road.

It was starting to really bug Anne to the point that she was ready to go into a tirade. She mentally promised herself that when the next rude person walked by, she would let out a string of curses so vile it would really make the hobbits blush. Luckily, she didn’t have to resort to such measures because they finally had reached their destination.

A green sign with a rearing horse as its logo read, “ _The Prancing Pony_ ” in a neat, gold script.

“We’re here,” Frodo announced with relief.

He grabbed the handle and struggled to open up the door.

“Here, let me,” Anne insisted and grabbed the handle.

She easily swung the door open and gestured for the hobbits to go in first. Anne walked into the establishment after Sam and let the door close behind her. She smiled as the warmth inside surrounded her like a thick blanket. The hobbits took off their hoods and shook their hair free of clinging droplets of water. Anne’s hood had already fallen off again so instead, she twisted her hair and wrung some of the rainwater out.

The establishment was loud and boisterous and smelled of alcohol and tobacco smoke. Anne realized as she looked around that it was more like a tavern than a hotel. She figured the inn was just a side gig of the more prominent bar and restaurant situated in front of her. Of course, she was being very liberal with the labels as it wasn’t really a restaurant as much as it was a bar with a few tables. It didn’t matter though. Anne’s stomach growled in hunger, alerting her to its famished state and demanding sustenance.

“I’m hungry,” Pip announced from in front of her, apparently feeling fiendish himself. There were several grunts of agreement from Sam and Merry who seemed equally starved.

“Let’s find Gandalf first,” Frodo suggested and began looking around. “Can you see him Anne?” he asked since she was the tallest member of their party.

Anne looked around the bar then over at the tables but couldn’t find Gandalf. “I don’t see him.”

“Maybe you should ask up front,” Pip suggested, pointing to the front desk, which was really just part of the bar.

Frodo nodded and made his way over to front desk with the rest of the group closely behind him.

“Excuse me,” he said in a polite tone.

Anne could see a man with his back to the group. He turned around and looked at Anne while he continued drying a mug that was in his hands. He smiled and walked over to the desk.

“How may I help such a beautiful young lady as yourself?” he asked kindly.

Anne smiled and pointed down again. The older man furrowed his brow in confusion and leaned over the desk to look down.

“Oh hello. Good evening, little masters. I didn’t see you,” he apologized sincerely. “What can I do for you?”

Before Frodo had a chance to answer, the man cut in and continued talking. “If you’re looking for accommodation, we got some nice, cozy, hobbit-sized rooms available. Always proud to cater to the little folk,” he declared with a kind smile.

Anne liked him. So far, he had been the only person in Bree who was friendly to the hobbits. And the way his eyes crinkled with delight as he addressed them told her he was a good guy.

“Now what can I do for you Mr.…uh…,” he trailed off, unsure of Frodo’s name.

“Underhill,” Frodo answered quickly. “My name’s Underhill.”

“Underhill,” the older man repeated suspiciously. He didn’t look too convinced that Underhill was Frodo’s name but he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he went along with Frodo’s pseudonym like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Right! Well what can I do for you Mr. Underhill?” he asked again.

“We’re friends of Gandalf the Grey,” Frodo explained. “Can you tell him we’ve arrived?”

“Gandalf?” the older man repeated.

Anne watched as Frodo nodded his head.

“Gandalf?” the man repeated, mostly to himself this time, like he was trying to recall the name and who it belonged too. His brows furrowed as he thought for a moment before his eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh yes, I remember,” he nodded his head eagerly. “Elderly chap. Big grey beard, pointy hat,” he continued, describing Gandalf to a tee.

Frodo nodded and smiled as relief washed over Anne.

Thank goodness. This would all be over soon.

“Not seen him for six months,” the man revealed.

It felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over Anne. Her stomach dropped as her heart beat sped up in panic. What did he mean he hadn’t seen Gandalf for six months?!

“Are you sure?” Anne asked anxiously.

“Quite,” the man assured her. “He visited around the time my brother came to visit. That was six months ago.”

The hobbits all huddled around Frodo who turned around with a grim face. He looked at Anne and gave her a sad smile.

“What do we do now?” Sam whispered to Frodo.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Gandalf said he’d be here.”

“Maybe he’s just running a bit late is all,” Pip suggested.

Anne wasn’t sure if she believed him or wanted to believe him so bad that she just went along with it.

“I think Pip is right,” she agreed with confidence. “Let’s just wait a while for him to show up,” she suggested.

Merry and Pip agreed right away but Sam looked to Frodo to make the final decision.

Frodo remained silent for a while as he thought. “I think Anne is right. We will wait for Gandalf,” he decided and nodded at her.

“Hey, it was my idea!” Pip shouted and was quickly elbowed in the ribs by Merry.

“Shut up Pip,” he scolded and then turned and smiled at Anne.

Anne laughed despite herself. Those two were quite the show.

“Well if we’re going to stay a while, maybe we can eat,” Sam suggested, eyeing a bowl of soup on a nearby table.

“I’m not going to lie. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse right now!” Anne declared as she rubbed her growling stomach.

There was a collective gasp from the hobbits around her as their eyes widened in complete horror.

“It’s just a saying!” Anne explained quickly, trying to quell the hobbits shock. “Calm down. I wouldn’t really eat a horse. It just means that I’m really hungry.”

The hobbits all looked relieved at her explanation; except for Pip, who was still staring at her with side eyes, unsure if he really believed her.

Anne rolled her eyes at him.

“Well what will it be Mr. Underhill?” the older man at the desk inquired, gaining everyone’s attention again. “Will you be needing some rooms?”

“It might be a good idea to reserve a room for the night…” Sam whispered to Frodo, “…you know, just in case.”

Frodo nodded in agreement.

“We will need two rooms,” Frodo answered, looking at the innkeeper. “Just for the night.”

Anne balked. What did he mean _two_ rooms? As much as she wanted her privacy, she did not want to be alone—not when dementors were chasing her!

“Do we really need two rooms?” Anne asked, whispering in Frodo’s ear.

He looked at her strangely. “Of course we do. Where would you sleep otherwise?”

Anne sighed. It was probably all sorts of inappropriate in Middle-earth if she shared a room with hobbits—especially male hobbits. She would just have to suck it up and be brave. She was in a guarded town she reasoned. She would be fine.

“One hobbit-sized room and one regular room,” the innkeeper mumbled to himself as he checked his book. “Yes, we have availabilities for both. Will any of you care for baths?” he asked, looking them over.

“Yes!” Anne shouted eagerly.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“I mean,” she began more calmly, “That would be great. Thank you.”

The older man nodded and wrote down something in his book. “If you all would like to eat first, I can tally up your dinner bill into your total and you can pay then,” he suggested, having overheard their discussion.

Frodo smiled politely. “That would be greatly appreciated.”

The older man smiled back and then gestured for them to go ahead and seat themselves.

The place was hectic with rowdy and drunk patrons laughing the night away. Several customers were arguing and Anne noticed some serious weaponry displayed as they made their way past the bar and into the dining area. As they continued squeezing past people, Anne caught one man feeding what looked like a ferret. Apparently, there was no such thing as health codes in Middle-earth. Anne shuddered at the rodent and hoped there weren’t any such animals lingering in the kitchen.

A group of men huddled together at one of the tables watched her as she walked by and gave her flirtatious smiles and winks which she ignored. She heard one of the men call out to her but she didn’t respond; instead, she acted as if she was deaf.

Finally, they approached a free table toward the back of the dining area near the wall. It was a small table which is probably why it was the only available table left. It was crafted especially for little folk. The hobbits all took seats around the table and Merry purposefully left the seat next to him available, pushing Pip out of the way when he tried to sit in it.

“This one is for you, Anne,” he offered with a bright smile.

Anne bit her lip and tried not to smile at his obvious displays of affection. “Thank you Merry,” she said and took a seat next to him and across from Frodo and Sam.

“I would have saved you a seat too, except Merry got to it first,” Pip explained with a slight pout.

Anne laughed. “Well it’s the thought that counts,” she said and gave him a smile.

She saw Merry give Pip a dirty look but chose not to comment on it.

Anne adjusted herself in the small chair and tried not to think about how ridiculous she looked sitting at the table. It was like being forced to sit at the children’s table during Christmas dinner.

“Well what will it be?” a woman asked as she approached the table.

“Five soups of the day with bread please,” Frodo ordered politely.

The woman nodded and was off, weaving throughout the crowd with ease from practice. The woman came back with some mugs full of water and dropped them at the table before she left just as quickly as she had arrived.

Anne grabbed the mug and drank it all in large gulps, like a man who had been stranded in the desert. All that running had made her quite thirsty. The hobbits might have judged her for her lack of grace but they were too busy gulping down their own mugs of water to notice.

“That felt good going down,” Merry said as he slammed his mug on the table. “But I know what will feel even better,” he said looking at Pip with a sly smile.

“Ale!” Pip shouted with joy.

The two jumped up from their chairs and made their way over to the bar, running through the crowd like children hyped up on too much sugar.

“You can stay here Mr. Frodo, I’ll get you a mug of ale too,” Sam promised, looking at Frodo. He turned his attention to Anne. “Would you like for me to get you some as well?” he asked politely.

“No, thanks. I’m good,” Anne replied, waving him away.

Sam went off and Anne watched as he joined the other two hobbits at the bar. She returned her gaze to the table only to see Frodo giving her a concerned look.

“Are you doing okay Anne?” Frodo asked from across the table.

Now that it was just them, they could talk openly.

Anne thought about it for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know. Things are so crazy right now. All I want to do is go home—alive,” she finished with a worried look.

“I know what you mean,” Frodo agreed solemnly.

“I felt you, you know,” Anne began uncomfortably, “earlier—in my head,” she revealed just above a whisper. She didn’t want anyone else to hear her. She felt foolish enough just saying it Frodo. She didn’t need other people to think she was crazy too.

“I know,” Frodo answered just as quietly. “I felt you in my mind as well.”

Anne’s eyes widened at his admission. So she _wasn’t_ crazy. That was good.

“Why are we connected? _How_ are we connected?” Anne asked quickly as her mind raced with a million questions.

Frodo shrugged and looked down at his hands.

Anne sighed. He was clearly just as confused by the situation as she was. Anne felt her frustration growing steadily within her. She needed answers!

“Well who were those black riders?” she asked, trying a different question.

“I don’t know,” Frodo answered. “But Gandalf will know,” he assured her.

Their private conversation was cut off abruptly by the return of the other hobbits to the table. Each hobbit was carrying a mug of ale, except for Sam who held two.

“Are you sure you didn’t want one?” Sam asked as he sat back down at the table, handing Frodo his mug of ale.

“I’m sure,” Anne replied as Merry and Pip took their seats.

“You’re missing out!” Merry assured her as he took a sip. “This is quite good ale.”

Anne was going to reply but the waitress and innkeeper showed up with their meals. They placed the bowls on the table and left before they came back with plates of bread.

Despite her reservations on the cleanliness of the place, Anne had to admit that the food looked good and smelled wonderful. She decided she wouldn’t think about the health code violations and would just try to enjoy her meal.

She took a bite of the bread and moaned in delight as the soft, warm substance pleased her taste buds. She took another bite and moaned again. She heard Merry spit out his ale and start choking. She turned to look at him and both he and Pip were staring at her with wide eyes.

“What?” she groaned, already knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Do you always make those noises when you eat?” Pip asked tentatively.

Anne rolled her eyes. It was this again. Couldn’t she eat her food the way she enjoyed, without the world thinking she was some kind of sex maniac?

“Yes, I do,” she answered tersely. “If you don’t like it, you can get over it because it’s how I eat!”

Merry and Pip looked at each other and there was an unspoken conversation before they both looked at Frodo and Sam who shrugged.

Annoyed, Anne turned her attention elsewhere and noticed several people in the dining area were looking at them.

“Is it me or does it seem like a lot of people are staring at us?” Anne asked as she continued to look around.

“It’s probably from all the noises you’re making,” Pip said absent-mindedly as he tore off a piece of his bread.

Merry hit him upside the head.

“What was that for?” Pip asked outraged. “You were all thinking it!”

“Yes Pippin,” Merry agreed annoyed with his honesty. “But you don’t say it out loud. That’s rude.”

“So it’s not rude to think it but it’s rude to say it?” Pip asked for clarification.

“Exactly!” Merry said proudly.

Anne sighed. Everyone was starting to get on her nerves.

“I think I will get a drink after all,” she said and stood up.

She never drank beer before (since she was under the legal drinking age) but she didn’t think it was that big of a deal. If she could drink in Europe at twenty, she figured she could drink in Middle-earth at twenty too.

She made her way to the bar and had to pass by the table of flirtatious men once again. They gave her lewd gestures but she ignored them and kept walking. When she got to the bar, she sat down on an available stool and waited for the bartender to see her.

The bartender finally turned around and Anne smiled as she realized it was the innkeeper. _He must be constantly busy_ , she thought as he came up to her.

“What would you like to drink Miss?” he asked politely.

Anne didn’t answer. She didn’t know what kind of drink she would like. She looked around and pointed to a random man at the other end of the bar. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

The old man nodded and went to work, filling up a large mug with ale.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here?” A man with horribly brown teeth asked as he sat on the barstool next to her.

Anne noticed that it was one of the men from that rowdy table of men who kept giving her lewd looks. Anne chose to ignore him and not answer. She found that when she ignored men, they would lose interest and leave her alone. However, this man seemed unperturbed by her uninterested demeanor.

“Such a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be hanging around those little folk,” he spat in disgust.

He was really starting to irk her now.

The innkeeper dropped her mug down onto the bar before her and gave the man pestering her a stern look.

“Leave her be!” he ordered in a hard tone.

The man next to her put his hands up in surrender and laughed.

She grabbed her drink and was just about to leave when Merry showed up.

“Ooh what’s that?” he asked excitedly as he eyed her large mug.

“That little master, is a pint,” the innkeeper answered. “Would you like one as well?”

“Oh yes,” Merry nodded repetitively in anticipation.

Anne inwardly sighed but remained where she was. She didn’t want to stay anywhere near the man next to her but she didn’t want to leave Merry alone with him either.

“I’ve never had a pint before,” Merry said aloud. “This will be quite the experience.”

Suddenly, two more of the men from the lewd table joined their friend who was next to her.

“Any luck?” she heard one of them ask.

“She’s harder to tame than a wild mare,” the man with bad teeth replied and laughed.

“Well perhaps you’ve lost your touch,” the other man said. “Let me have a try.”

Anne cringed and tried to keep her temper under control as her anger continued to rise. She was already in a bad mood and they were just adding to her troubles. She was wet, hungry and exhausted. The last thing she needed right now was to be hit on.

“Hello Miss,” the man’s friend greeted her with a wide smile.

She noted his teeth weren’t as bad but his hair was greasy and his nails were caked with dirt and grime.

“Perhaps you would be interested in joining me for a drink?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s going to be a hard _NO_ from me,” Anne replied with an extra bite to her words.

She hoped he would take a hint.

“Well then, how about you join me for a night of fun?” he asked in a salacious tone.

She heard Merry gasp from next to her and knew without having to be told that the man had insulted her. He was probably calling her a whore by Middle-earth standards.

That was it. Anne’s anger boiled over and she slammed her mug on the bar and turned her attention to the man.

“How about I cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs outside?” she asked menacingly. She felt a tickle of something dark awaken within her like a single flame of concentrated malice flickering to life.

The man’s eyes went wide and she heard Merry gasp again—probably because of her this time.

“I didn’t mean any offense,” the man claimed as he backed away from her slowly. His friends were looking at her like she was some kind of serial killer as they backed away with him.

Anne smiled savagely as she felt the darkness flare up in excited.

“Best to leave me alone then. I’d hate to keep your eyeballs as souvenirs,” she threatened dangerously. Something inside her was blooming with a need for destruction and pain.

The men stumbled backwards quickly and made their way back to their table.

Anne wasn’t satisfied. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cause them pain. She wanted to break bones.

“Are you alright Anne?” Merry asked from the floor next to her, touching her arm gently.

Anne blinked several times as the dark thoughts plaguing her mind faded away like a storm cloud dispersing.

“—I don’t know what happened,” Anne answered honestly. “I’m not sure why I said those things.”

Merry looked uneasy but he gave her a small smile. “Well, they are gone now and no harm was done. Best to forget all about it,” he finished, waving away her troubles.

“One pint for the little master,” the innkeeper interrupted, handing the mug of ale over the counter to Merry.

“Oh thanks,” Merry said, grabbing the mug from him. “Come on Anne,” he said looking at her. “Let’s get back to the table. I can’t wait to make Pip jealous!”

Anne smiled at him and picked up her mug as she tried to forget her troubled thoughts. She really didn’t want to think about what just happened. She had enough problems as is without tacking on a Kathy Bates from _Misery_ personality to the list.

Anne sighed and followed Merry to the table, noticing that none of the men from the lewd table commented on her appearance or even looked at her as she passed.

_Good._

“What’ that?” she heard Pip ask in shock as they sat back down at the table.

Merry smiled. “This, my friend, is a pint,” he answered smugly and took a sip of his drink.

“It comes in pints?” Pip asked excitedly. “I’m getting one,” he said eagerly and ran off.

“You’ve had a whole half already,” Sam chastised but Pip was already gone.

Anne took a sip of her ale and grimaced. It tasted like moldy-bread but then again, she was pretty sure all beer tasted like that. She ignored her displeasure at the taste and continued to sip her drink as she ate her meal.

Anne was just starting to feel the effects of her alcohol when Sam spoke up.

“That fellow’s done nothing but stare at you since we arrived,” Sam said, pointing in the direction behind Anne.

Curious, she turned around to see who Sam was talking about. In the corner, next the fireplace, sat a hooded man smoking a pipe. He was clothed in a black cloak which gave off an aura of mystery. It didn’t help that his face was hidden in the shadows, the only light coming from his pipe as he smoked.

Anne quickly turned around as a prickly sensation blossomed over her skin. That guy looked all sorts of dangerous.

_Great. Now we have the Middle-earth version of the Winter Soldier stalking us!_

“Excuse me,” Frodo said, halting the innkeeper as he walked by. “That man in the corner. Who is he?” he asked discreetly pointing his chin in the mystery man’s direction.

The older man looked to the man before he spoke. “He’s one of them Rangers,” the innkeeper began with a serious look. “Dangerous folk, they are, wandering the Wilds.”

Anne swallowed thickly.

“What his right name is, I’ve never heard,” the innkeeper continued. “But around here, he’s known as Strider,” he finished and walked off.

“Strider,” Frodo repeated to himself and looked over at him again.

“Don’t look at him Frodo!” Anne admonished. “The last thing we need is another enemy. Let’s just play it cool until Gandalf gets here,” she begged with pleading eyes.

Frodo looked at her again but his eyes were glazed over like he wasn’t really looking at her. Suddenly, Anne felt the same vibrational force pulling her into a dark lullaby, threatening to consume her. Her head felt heavy all of a sudden as her eyes started to close. She swayed ever so slightly as a voice whispered. She could just make out the word— _Baggins_. It repeated the same word over and over again, and Anne felt once more that she was in a trance, unable to pull herself free from the link that had been made. Her body suddenly felt heavy and weighted down by an oppressive anchor, keeping her rooted in her chair. _Baggins_ , the ominous voice whispered again.

“Baggins?” Pip asked loudly from the bar. “Sure I know a Baggins.”

Anne’s eyes shot open at Pippin’s declaration. An uneasy dread filled her stomach.

“He’s over there,” Pip continued pointing in their direction. “Frodo Baggins. He’s my second cousin once removed on his mother’s side,” he told to the crowd of shady looking men gathered around him.

Frodo jumped up and ran to the bar.

“Pippin!” he shouted as he grabbed him by the shoulder.

Pip shoved him off of him and Anne watched in slow motion as Frodo fell, causing a gold ring he was holding to fly upwards out of his hand. Time seemed to slow down as Anne watched the ring fall and slip onto Frodo’s finger before he disappeared.

Before Anne had a chance to register what was happening, everything changed. It felt like she was sucked into a vortex, out of her surroundings and into a void where nothing existed for long—like a space between worlds.

Dark shadows surrounded her like ghosts that never stayed still. She could make out nine dark figures that were made out of shadows but something about the way they looked reminded her of the black riders in the woods.

 _You cannot hide_ , a voice whispered. Anne knew that voice. It was the voice that chilled her bones. The voice that caused her heart to skip a beat.

 _I see you_ , the voice said from behind her. Anne turned around and froze. A bright light like the sun was burning in front of her. A dark oval shape rested in the center where no light shined. Once again, she was reminded of a black hole in space. The bright light around the darkness held an array of yellows, oranges and reds and made Anne think of a blazing fire. The longer she looked at it though, the more the scene reminded her of an eye—a demonic, frightening and soul crushing eye.

 _There is no life in the void_ , the voice whispered and Anne felt complete isolation shoot through her. She felt immensely lonely, like the only star in the universe amongst a sea of black. Tears trailed down her cheeks at the desolation she was experiencing.

 _Only death_ , the voice added in a harsh whisper. Anne clutched at her chest, scared the voice would kill her when suddenly, the shadow world faded and she was sitting in the Prancing Pony once again.

She looked around the table, trying to get her bearings, but found herself sitting alone. She looked to the bar which was in pandemonium as people gasped and shouted obscenities. She heard something about witchcraft but didn’t have time to think on the matter as Sam, Merry and Pip were running towards her with panicked faces.

“Come on!” Sam shouted as he reached the table. “We’ve got to go save him!”

“Save who?” Anne asked confused. “What happened?” she asked in alarm.

Nothing was making sense.

“That ranger took Frodo!” Merry shouted as he picked up a candle holder nearby. “Grab something! Anything!” he demanded.

Anne watched as Pip picked up one of the stools they had been sitting on. Not knowing what to do, she picked up the closet thing to her—Merry’s empty soup bowl.

“Let’s go!” Sam yelled, running toward the stairs in the back of the dining area. The hobbits trailed after him with Anne right behind them.

They ran up the steps and stopped.

“Which room is he in?” Merry whispered.

Sam looked down the hall and noticed the light streaming under the door of the room at the end of the hall.

“That one!” he shouted and raced down the hall.

Anne hesitated for a moment. She was terrified. She had never been in a fight and didn’t know what to expect once they entered the room. All she knew was that she didn’t want Frodo to get hurt. They were a team—a ragtag group of hobbits with a rambling woman—but a team none the less. If someone was going to hurt one of them, they would have to fight all of them, her included.

It reminded her of the _Three Muskateers_. “All for one and one for all.”

She just hoped they wouldn’t all die.

Anne took a deep breath, steeling her nerves and took off down the hall, behind the hobbits.


End file.
